Chapter 9: Interlude
The Story Thus Far: Commissioner Gordon and Det. Bullock are saved by a seemingly turned Two-Face, much to Penguin's dismay. Two-Face claims to have been framed in regards to the arson on Gordon's home, but before he can reveal the name of the mastermind behind it all, the 'Shaftie' strikes. Bullets have little effect on the creature and the situation appears grim until Batgirl intervenes. The creature then changes tactics, lashing out at the Commissioner and forcing Batgirl to sacrifice herself to save Gordon's life. As the creature turns its attention to Dent and Bullock, an irate Gordon removes a fire axe and lops off the Shaftie's head! Yet the creature still lives! As they flee with Batgirl Dent ignites the building hoping it'll take care of the creature. Naturally, during the confusion Penguin escapes; Meantime on Ra's al Ghul's island fortress, Harley and Ivy meet Talia's baby boy, Beal. They are given a safe exit by Talia before she leaves them; Elsewhere on the island Ra's al Ghul and Bruce Wayne meet and subsequently begin to duel. During battle Ra's reveals his plan to create a horde of assassins with the Lazarus Pit, from blood cells donated by an 'eager participant.' This perfect army would then be used to raze the earth, allowing nature to regain control over her lost sphere. Bruce notices he's a bloody mess at this point. Ra's also gave a horde member to Talia to do with as she pleased for good measure. Bruce loses it here and Ra's takes advantage. Just before he's to deliver the killing blow Talia jumps in-between them and pleads for Bruce's life. Ra's ultimately runs the blade through both Talia and Bruce. He can revive Talia later in the Lazarus Pit, but as for Bruce…in a remarkable turnaround Bruce manages to paralyze Ra's with a drugged dart he had secreted on his person. Ra's can only watch as Bruce struggles to his feet and with a final burst of adrenaline he gives Ra's the unkindest cut of all. His task done, Bruce falls back "and the world fades to oblivion…"
…
Slowly, ever so slowly, he could feel the warmth of the sun's rays upon his brow, and his eyes could discern a field of tranquil blue spotted with small puffs of white. Now he could hear as well, as the sound of lapping waves striking a small wooden craft encroach upon his senses. The smell of the salt sea air and his still hand bobbing upon the cool water tell him where he is. There is such idle withdrawal, such serenity and peace in his once addled mind, as if he has been born again and the whole world been made clear. He moves his head down from the sky allowing his eyes to fix upon the other occupants of the tiny craft. The blonde girl, her lips curled in a mischievous grin as she bounces a tiny babe upon her knee. 'How appropriate,' he muses. And to her right the red head, who still clutches at her side, looking on at the pair in bemused silence. He stirs and she's the first to notice.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," she comments with a grin.
"Look baby!" Harley smiles as she turns the child round on her knee so it could face the rousing stranger, "Daddy!"
Even in his dazed state Bruce knew, "I'm not his father…"
Harley frowns at him, "Well geez, the least you could do is smile for the kid. He's had a rough day, you know."
"Smile?" he wonders aloud, his fingers running across his face. Stunned, he peers over the side of the small craft and at the clear blue reflection beneath. They were gone, the scars, the hideous scars that had left his face contorted in a permanent, vile grin. 'The Lazarus Pit,' he thinks, looking at the two women before him. They who were once among his most mortal enemies, THEY gave him life anew…and he begins to remember, everything…
"Talia?" he asks, still unable to comprehend how this had happened.
Ivy shakes her head, "When we finally found you she was gone. The whole island was sinking and we didn't have time to look for her. We just managed to dump you in the Pit that Ghul mentioned. We weren't sure if we left you in long enough…we thought…" she stops short.
Bruce can remember the sensation of cold steel slashing flesh, "And Ra's?"
Ivy takes a quick glance at Harley and frowns, unsure what how to tell him, "He…won't be coming back…"
"How do you feel, boss?" Harley jumps in, desperate for a change in subject.
He looks down at the child and manages a smile, "Strangely…forgiven."
"Forgiven, huh?" she nods back, "For what…by whom?"
He stays silent.
Harley grins, "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I mean, it's good to be forgiven. It can make you feel good, being forgiven, and its good you feel good, it really is. I'm glad you feel good because that's healthy, and it's important to stay healthy. Do you know what isn't healthy, boss?"
He shakes his head.
"Being stuck on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic with no help in sight! Now do something!"
He smiles and winks at Ivy. He then leans towards Harley, "What's that?"
"What's what?" she inquires, her eyes darting about. Bruce reaches with one hand to the side of her head as he answers, "That thing behind your ear."
"What thing? I'm clean, I swear!"
Bruce pulls his hand back and shows it to Harley. Within its grasp is a tiny chip card, its metallic bits glistening in the sun's light. Beal giggles as Harley fumes, "That wasn't very funny…I'm sensitive about my ears, you know…"
"What is it?" Ivy questions.
"Plan B," Bruce grins as he depresses the button on the card, "Ra's had enough dampers within his base to prevent its use earlier, but that's not a problem now. We're going home…" And a shimmering blue light enshrouds the four of them, growing in intensity every second until one can no longer see the tiny craft's occupants. Then it's gone, leaving an empty boat behind bobbing gently on idle waters…
…
"I hate hospitals, you know."
Det. Harvey Bullock sits back on the waiting room chair, his pudgy thumbs twiddling nervously about one another. Seated next to him is an elderly gentleman, his silvery grey hairs and wrinkled brow demonstrating years of experience, his cane showing that not all of them were pleasant. The senior gent merely nods at the restless detective understandingly, "Do tell."
"Sure," Bullock answers in a snap, "You know these places are death traps. Just coming through them doors halves your chance of living. I've lost more buddies in here than I'd care to count, and it seems like that's all that ever goes on. Death and disease, that's all. And you know the worst part?" The old man shakes his head. "They won't let you smoke in 'em!"
The old man sighs as a nearby nurse calls his name. He tries for his feet and feels Bullock's arm about his shoulder, helping him up. He smiles warmly to the detective, "Thank you kindly young man. I hope that your friend feels better soon."
Bullock gives a puzzled look back, "Friend?"
"Yes, that large fellow you came in with, the one with the bad burns on half his face. My, if anyone needed help, he does."
Bullock's flabbergasted as he searches about in desperation, and his features become crestfallen when the object of his search is nowhere to be found, "Oh geez! Damn! Okay…I mean…geez!"
"Didn't see him go in, eh?" the frail gent pipes up, "He should be right through there." The old man points towards a single door, its speckled glass window preventing any observation from the outside. "See you later…detective," the old man grins as he hobbles off.
Bullock doesn't waste a second and sprints to the door. He then shakes the doorknob violently, to no avail. Surmising the situation he takes a few steps back and inhales deeply. With one hand on his gun he charges the door, splintering its lock and smashing it on the wall, his success marked by a rain of shattered glass. He draws his gun forth and screams, "Freeze!"
Before him is a sickening sight, of blood running down from the bifurcated brow of Two-Face, who jumps at Bullock's brash entrance. Next to Two-Face are several crimson covered tools, one of which he's only recently discarded. Bullock can't understand what it is he sees, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Yes," a familiar voice calls from behind Bullock, "What are you doing?"
Bullock whirls about and is greeted by the Commissioner, whose body is a mishmash of patches and bandages, his once stern countenance now accompanied by pain, his clothing still smeared with the blood spilt last night. Gordon gently taps Bullock on the shoulder, "Why don't you check if the perimeter is secure, then meet us on the roof. Ten minutes."
Bullock withdraws in a huff. After a few steps he then pauses and turns towards the Commissioner, "How's she doing Commish?"
"The doctors say she'll live, thank God," Gordon wavers back, "Now get going detective, and secure the perimeter. I don't want anyone even touching the mask, you got me?"
"Sure," he grumbles as he resumes his trek. Gordon then turns to Harvey Dent and tries to ignore the blood as he speaks, "We're leaving."
Two-Face is in a foul mood as he rises. He dons his two toned hat as he and the Commissioner begin to walk, "The roof?"
Gordon answers as they walk towards the elevator, shying away from his companion's face, "Of course the roof, Harvey. There's only about 3 or 4 dozen reporters outside, waiting like vultures to pick at the carcass. So instead of wading through them we're going to circle overhead. Now, what were you doing in there?"
Two-Face chooses to ignore the question and stays silent for the moment.
Gordon raises an eyebrow at this. He decides to take a different tact, "Allen's file folder made it clear that the Asylum's our man's base of operations. That he's up to something…something monumental…" he trails off, hoping Dent would bite.
Two-Face is growing more agitated with each step, "Don't bother with the swerve Jim, to get us talking before you ask the same damned question, hoping to catch us off-guard. Remember, we were a lawyer, once."
"We…?" Gordon growls under his breath, "You're supposed to be helping us damn it! What's wrong with you?"
"Oswald's still out there…" and Two-Face snickers.
"Harvey," Gordon says softly as the elevator doors open to allow them onboard, "The Penguin wouldn't try anything now."
"No," Two-Face smirks, "Not normally…" Two-Face removes his hat, revealing a grotesque gash running across the center of his scalp. He then reaches into his pocket and removes a tiny, blood smeared microchip that the Commissioner recognizes immediately, "…but then again, he isn't himself."
The Commissioner gasps in amazement, "A mind control device!"
Two-Face nods in agreement, "The Riddler struck Oswald and us before our escape. We caught on and have now removed our chip, but Oswald hasn't. He's still out there…"
"Us…?" Gordon frowns as he finally realizes the truth. He suddenly grabs a hold of Two-Face's shoulders and begins to shake him violently, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Snap out of it damn it! Snap out of it! There's no us, no we! Just Harvey Dent, okay? Just the man who's been helping us, the man who got Allen to work for him, the man who investigated the Asylum in the first place! Pull yourself together, we need you!" He lets go and Harvey Dent slumps to the elevator's floor.
The giant begins to weep, the tears streaming down his unmarred side, his scarred side remaining resolute, "I'm sorry Jim, so sorry. I had Two-Face under control for so long, but when the chip was implanted he nearly…nearly…go away, Dent…I just couldn't kill…it's not your turn, Dent… I wouldn't let him do it…played us for a fool, Dent, balance the scales…CAN'T KILL!" and for a moment there is silence.
Harvey Dent sobs, "I had to take it out…I couldn't risk his influence any longer, barely held in check…I had to regain control…I wasn't ready…wasn't ready…"
"Easy Harvey, easy, you're among friends now," the Commissioner whispers sympathetically as the elevator begins its ascent.
"He seems stronger now, Jim," Dent mutters pathetically, "I don't know how much longer I can keep him down…I can't…"
"Easy Harvey, just a little longer; don't give up after having come so far," and Gordon taps him reassuringly on the shoulder.
Harvey Dent can only stare blankly at the wall before him as the Commissioner's words pass through like a faint echo, "So far…so good? Yet Allen was good, a good cop, he believed me, he was going to save the asylum for me…now he's dead. Bruce Wayne, he's good too, he wouldn't believe me but he said he'd contact Batman, for old time's sake, that he'd help…help that never came. He forgot all about me…"
Dent takes a deep sigh and wipes away the tears, "Our adversary's good, Gordon, very good. He's somehow kept Batman out of the picture while having us run around like fools for his amusement. Your home, my escape and arson spree, all double blinds to keep the police looking in all the wrong places while chasing the wrong people, leaving him free to work. The Shaftie was his insurance policy, sent to dissuade any nosy cops or bureaucrats in dark, unkempt alleys. He never wanted murder though, not unless absolutely necessary. Murder raises suspicion in all the wrong people, believe me, I know, but Allen…Allen made it necessary. The Shaftie then must have found the clue I'd left for Allen, a meeting place and time, and it stopped by to ensure that everything was going according to plan and if it wasn't, to…fix it. His plan's near fruition, Jim, to the point of no return, to the point where murder is needed…wanted…Allen's murder…your murder…my murder…death all round 'til none can be found…"
"That chip, the Mad Hatter made those. Only he's long dead," Gordon manages as the elevator comes to a halt. He sighs, "Then it must be the Riddler, using the Hatter's equipment." The doors open and Gordon glances upwards at the police helicopter, its searchlight barely visible. It is midday but the sky is black and slick with rain, this won't be a pleasure ride. Gordon turns towards Dent and helps him up, "But his riddle? I thought it was referring to you and Allen?"
Dent ignores the light and continues, "It was, Jim, it was. You found me and now know about his entire plan, the riddle was key, as always."
"Not quite," Gordon sputters, "We don't know what he's planned, or how soon he's going to pull it off. If we've got any chance of stopping this, of putting an end to it once and for all, we have to act now!"
The helicopter settles down on the hospital's helipad and the two of them wait briefly for Bullock's arrival before they proceed.
"And you, Harvey?" Gordon asks sombrely, the rain whipping into his face, "What do you want?"
Dent looks down at his hands, one that's scarred and twisted, and the other that is smooth and natural. "I've always been more of the dark than the light, even though on the outside I am evenly split. I tossed a coin to determine my actions, but how often did I make it two out of three? Three out of five? Dear lord, how often?" He whimpers and looks up at the rain swept sky, "With Grace gone there was nothing left. Nothing, not even hope. She was the light, Jim, the anchor, and if I ever wanted to see her again…"
Dent composes himself as Bullock arrives on the scene. As they make their way to the helicopter Dent completes his narrative in a low, pathetic voice, "So far…on a wing and a prayer…"
TO BE CONTINUED…
The Story Thus Far: Commissioner Gordon and Det. Bullock are saved by a seemingly turned Two-Face, much to Penguin's dismay. Two-Face claims to have been framed in regards to the arson on Gordon's home, but before he can reveal the name of the mastermind behind it all, the 'Shaftie' strikes. Bullets have little effect on the creature and the situation appears grim until Batgirl intervenes. The creature then changes tactics, lashing out at the Commissioner and forcing Batgirl to sacrifice herself to save Gordon's life. As the creature turns its attention to Dent and Bullock, an irate Gordon removes a fire axe and lops off the Shaftie's head! Yet the creature still lives! As they flee with Batgirl Dent ignites the building hoping it'll take care of the creature. Naturally, during the confusion Penguin escapes; Meantime on Ra's al Ghul's island fortress, Harley and Ivy meet Talia's baby boy, Beal. They are given a safe exit by Talia before she leaves them; Elsewhere on the island Ra's al Ghul and Bruce Wayne meet and subsequently begin to duel. During battle Ra's reveals his plan to create a horde of assassins with the Lazarus Pit, from blood cells donated by an 'eager participant.' This perfect army would then be used to raze the earth, allowing nature to regain control over her lost sphere. Bruce notices he's a bloody mess at this point. Ra's also gave a horde member to Talia to do with as she pleased for good measure. Bruce loses it here and Ra's takes advantage. Just before he's to deliver the killing blow Talia jumps in-between them and pleads for Bruce's life. Ra's ultimately runs the blade through both Talia and Bruce. He can revive Talia later in the Lazarus Pit, but as for Bruce…in a remarkable turnaround Bruce manages to paralyze Ra's with a drugged dart he had secreted on his person. Ra's can only watch as Bruce struggles to his feet and with a final burst of adrenaline he gives Ra's the unkindest cut of all. His task done, Bruce falls back "and the world fades to oblivion…"
…
Slowly, ever so slowly, he could feel the warmth of the sun's rays upon his brow, and his eyes could discern a field of tranquil blue spotted with small puffs of white. Now he could hear as well, as the sound of lapping waves striking a small wooden craft encroach upon his senses. The smell of the salt sea air and his still hand bobbing upon the cool water tell him where he is. There is such idle withdrawal, such serenity and peace in his once addled mind, as if he has been born again and the whole world been made clear. He moves his head down from the sky allowing his eyes to fix upon the other occupants of the tiny craft. The blonde girl, her lips curled in a mischievous grin as she bounces a tiny babe upon her knee. 'How appropriate,' he muses. And to her right the red head, who still clutches at her side, looking on at the pair in bemused silence. He stirs and she's the first to notice.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," she comments with a grin.
"Look baby!" Harley smiles as she turns the child round on her knee so it could face the rousing stranger, "Daddy!"
Even in his dazed state Bruce knew, "I'm not his father…"
Harley frowns at him, "Well geez, the least you could do is smile for the kid. He's had a rough day, you know."
"Smile?" he wonders aloud, his fingers running across his face. Stunned, he peers over the side of the small craft and at the clear blue reflection beneath. They were gone, the scars, the hideous scars that had left his face contorted in a permanent, vile grin. 'The Lazarus Pit,' he thinks, looking at the two women before him. They who were once among his most mortal enemies, THEY gave him life anew…and he begins to remember, everything…
"Talia?" he asks, still unable to comprehend how this had happened.
Ivy shakes her head, "When we finally found you she was gone. The whole island was sinking and we didn't have time to look for her. We just managed to dump you in the Pit that Ghul mentioned. We weren't sure if we left you in long enough…we thought…" she stops short.
Bruce can remember the sensation of cold steel slashing flesh, "And Ra's?"
Ivy takes a quick glance at Harley and frowns, unsure what how to tell him, "He…won't be coming back…"
"How do you feel, boss?" Harley jumps in, desperate for a change in subject.
He looks down at the child and manages a smile, "Strangely…forgiven."
"Forgiven, huh?" she nods back, "For what…by whom?"
He stays silent.
Harley grins, "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. I mean, it's good to be forgiven. It can make you feel good, being forgiven, and its good you feel good, it really is. I'm glad you feel good because that's healthy, and it's important to stay healthy. Do you know what isn't healthy, boss?"
He shakes his head.
"Being stuck on a raft in the middle of the Atlantic with no help in sight! Now do something!"
He smiles and winks at Ivy. He then leans towards Harley, "What's that?"
"What's what?" she inquires, her eyes darting about. Bruce reaches with one hand to the side of her head as he answers, "That thing behind your ear."
"What thing? I'm clean, I swear!"
Bruce pulls his hand back and shows it to Harley. Within its grasp is a tiny chip card, its metallic bits glistening in the sun's light. Beal giggles as Harley fumes, "That wasn't very funny…I'm sensitive about my ears, you know…"
"What is it?" Ivy questions.
"Plan B," Bruce grins as he depresses the button on the card, "Ra's had enough dampers within his base to prevent its use earlier, but that's not a problem now. We're going home…" And a shimmering blue light enshrouds the four of them, growing in intensity every second until one can no longer see the tiny craft's occupants. Then it's gone, leaving an empty boat behind bobbing gently on idle waters…
…
"I hate hospitals, you know."
Det. Harvey Bullock sits back on the waiting room chair, his pudgy thumbs twiddling nervously about one another. Seated next to him is an elderly gentleman, his silvery grey hairs and wrinkled brow demonstrating years of experience, his cane showing that not all of them were pleasant. The senior gent merely nods at the restless detective understandingly, "Do tell."
"Sure," Bullock answers in a snap, "You know these places are death traps. Just coming through them doors halves your chance of living. I've lost more buddies in here than I'd care to count, and it seems like that's all that ever goes on. Death and disease, that's all. And you know the worst part?" The old man shakes his head. "They won't let you smoke in 'em!"
The old man sighs as a nearby nurse calls his name. He tries for his feet and feels Bullock's arm about his shoulder, helping him up. He smiles warmly to the detective, "Thank you kindly young man. I hope that your friend feels better soon."
Bullock gives a puzzled look back, "Friend?"
"Yes, that large fellow you came in with, the one with the bad burns on half his face. My, if anyone needed help, he does."
Bullock's flabbergasted as he searches about in desperation, and his features become crestfallen when the object of his search is nowhere to be found, "Oh geez! Damn! Okay…I mean…geez!"
"Didn't see him go in, eh?" the frail gent pipes up, "He should be right through there." The old man points towards a single door, its speckled glass window preventing any observation from the outside. "See you later…detective," the old man grins as he hobbles off.
Bullock doesn't waste a second and sprints to the door. He then shakes the doorknob violently, to no avail. Surmising the situation he takes a few steps back and inhales deeply. With one hand on his gun he charges the door, splintering its lock and smashing it on the wall, his success marked by a rain of shattered glass. He draws his gun forth and screams, "Freeze!"
Before him is a sickening sight, of blood running down from the bifurcated brow of Two-Face, who jumps at Bullock's brash entrance. Next to Two-Face are several crimson covered tools, one of which he's only recently discarded. Bullock can't understand what it is he sees, "What the hell are you doing?"
"Yes," a familiar voice calls from behind Bullock, "What are you doing?"
Bullock whirls about and is greeted by the Commissioner, whose body is a mishmash of patches and bandages, his once stern countenance now accompanied by pain, his clothing still smeared with the blood spilt last night. Gordon gently taps Bullock on the shoulder, "Why don't you check if the perimeter is secure, then meet us on the roof. Ten minutes."
Bullock withdraws in a huff. After a few steps he then pauses and turns towards the Commissioner, "How's she doing Commish?"
"The doctors say she'll live, thank God," Gordon wavers back, "Now get going detective, and secure the perimeter. I don't want anyone even touching the mask, you got me?"
"Sure," he grumbles as he resumes his trek. Gordon then turns to Harvey Dent and tries to ignore the blood as he speaks, "We're leaving."
Two-Face is in a foul mood as he rises. He dons his two toned hat as he and the Commissioner begin to walk, "The roof?"
Gordon answers as they walk towards the elevator, shying away from his companion's face, "Of course the roof, Harvey. There's only about 3 or 4 dozen reporters outside, waiting like vultures to pick at the carcass. So instead of wading through them we're going to circle overhead. Now, what were you doing in there?"
Two-Face chooses to ignore the question and stays silent for the moment.
Gordon raises an eyebrow at this. He decides to take a different tact, "Allen's file folder made it clear that the Asylum's our man's base of operations. That he's up to something…something monumental…" he trails off, hoping Dent would bite.
Two-Face is growing more agitated with each step, "Don't bother with the swerve Jim, to get us talking before you ask the same damned question, hoping to catch us off-guard. Remember, we were a lawyer, once."
"We…?" Gordon growls under his breath, "You're supposed to be helping us damn it! What's wrong with you?"
"Oswald's still out there…" and Two-Face snickers.
"Harvey," Gordon says softly as the elevator doors open to allow them onboard, "The Penguin wouldn't try anything now."
"No," Two-Face smirks, "Not normally…" Two-Face removes his hat, revealing a grotesque gash running across the center of his scalp. He then reaches into his pocket and removes a tiny, blood smeared microchip that the Commissioner recognizes immediately, "…but then again, he isn't himself."
The Commissioner gasps in amazement, "A mind control device!"
Two-Face nods in agreement, "The Riddler struck Oswald and us before our escape. We caught on and have now removed our chip, but Oswald hasn't. He's still out there…"
"Us…?" Gordon frowns as he finally realizes the truth. He suddenly grabs a hold of Two-Face's shoulders and begins to shake him violently, screaming at the top of his lungs, "Snap out of it damn it! Snap out of it! There's no us, no we! Just Harvey Dent, okay? Just the man who's been helping us, the man who got Allen to work for him, the man who investigated the Asylum in the first place! Pull yourself together, we need you!" He lets go and Harvey Dent slumps to the elevator's floor.
The giant begins to weep, the tears streaming down his unmarred side, his scarred side remaining resolute, "I'm sorry Jim, so sorry. I had Two-Face under control for so long, but when the chip was implanted he nearly…nearly…go away, Dent…I just couldn't kill…it's not your turn, Dent… I wouldn't let him do it…played us for a fool, Dent, balance the scales…CAN'T KILL!" and for a moment there is silence.
Harvey Dent sobs, "I had to take it out…I couldn't risk his influence any longer, barely held in check…I had to regain control…I wasn't ready…wasn't ready…"
"Easy Harvey, easy, you're among friends now," the Commissioner whispers sympathetically as the elevator begins its ascent.
"He seems stronger now, Jim," Dent mutters pathetically, "I don't know how much longer I can keep him down…I can't…"
"Easy Harvey, just a little longer; don't give up after having come so far," and Gordon taps him reassuringly on the shoulder.
Harvey Dent can only stare blankly at the wall before him as the Commissioner's words pass through like a faint echo, "So far…so good? Yet Allen was good, a good cop, he believed me, he was going to save the asylum for me…now he's dead. Bruce Wayne, he's good too, he wouldn't believe me but he said he'd contact Batman, for old time's sake, that he'd help…help that never came. He forgot all about me…"
Dent takes a deep sigh and wipes away the tears, "Our adversary's good, Gordon, very good. He's somehow kept Batman out of the picture while having us run around like fools for his amusement. Your home, my escape and arson spree, all double blinds to keep the police looking in all the wrong places while chasing the wrong people, leaving him free to work. The Shaftie was his insurance policy, sent to dissuade any nosy cops or bureaucrats in dark, unkempt alleys. He never wanted murder though, not unless absolutely necessary. Murder raises suspicion in all the wrong people, believe me, I know, but Allen…Allen made it necessary. The Shaftie then must have found the clue I'd left for Allen, a meeting place and time, and it stopped by to ensure that everything was going according to plan and if it wasn't, to…fix it. His plan's near fruition, Jim, to the point of no return, to the point where murder is needed…wanted…Allen's murder…your murder…my murder…death all round 'til none can be found…"
"That chip, the Mad Hatter made those. Only he's long dead," Gordon manages as the elevator comes to a halt. He sighs, "Then it must be the Riddler, using the Hatter's equipment." The doors open and Gordon glances upwards at the police helicopter, its searchlight barely visible. It is midday but the sky is black and slick with rain, this won't be a pleasure ride. Gordon turns towards Dent and helps him up, "But his riddle? I thought it was referring to you and Allen?"
Dent ignores the light and continues, "It was, Jim, it was. You found me and now know about his entire plan, the riddle was key, as always."
"Not quite," Gordon sputters, "We don't know what he's planned, or how soon he's going to pull it off. If we've got any chance of stopping this, of putting an end to it once and for all, we have to act now!"
The helicopter settles down on the hospital's helipad and the two of them wait briefly for Bullock's arrival before they proceed.
"And you, Harvey?" Gordon asks sombrely, the rain whipping into his face, "What do you want?"
Dent looks down at his hands, one that's scarred and twisted, and the other that is smooth and natural. "I've always been more of the dark than the light, even though on the outside I am evenly split. I tossed a coin to determine my actions, but how often did I make it two out of three? Three out of five? Dear lord, how often?" He whimpers and looks up at the rain swept sky, "With Grace gone there was nothing left. Nothing, not even hope. She was the light, Jim, the anchor, and if I ever wanted to see her again…"
Dent composes himself as Bullock arrives on the scene. As they make their way to the helicopter Dent completes his narrative in a low, pathetic voice, "So far…on a wing and a prayer…"
TO BE CONTINUED…