Disclaimer: I don't own DC or Batman
Chapter 3: Chasing Ghosts
"Damian Wayne! Good to see you again."
The voice of Gotham's district attorney, Joseph Dent, broke Damian out of his thoughts on the speech given by Rose Thorne. Damian looked up to Dent, who was a good-looking man with a chiseled jaw that even gave the billionaire playboy a run for his money. Dent wore a three-piece gray suit with a blue and red shirt and tie combination—which looked expensive, but nothing Damian couldn't afford.
Damian stood from his desk and leaned over to extend his hand to the district attorney. Thorne's speech kept his focus to the point that he didn't even think of his impending meeting. Momentary gaps like that often annoyed him.
"Same to you Joe, I…can still call you Joe, right?" Damian asked in a jovial tone.
"Are you kidding me? I know it's been years but come on, all my friends call me Joe and I still consider you a friend," Joseph said as he shook Damian's hand.
Damian walked from around his desk and towards the bar while Joseph took a seat. He ran his fingers over multiple bottles—whiskey, wine, and tequila alike. It was mainly for show. Damian wasn't much of a drinker unless in a social setting, which was another addition to the mask that was the richest man in Gotham City.
"Can I get you a drink?" Damian asked.
Joseph looked over and nodded. "Sure, got any whiskey?" he asked, crossing one leg over the other.
Damian grabbed the whiskey bottle, the finest in the city, and poured it into two glass cups. He set the bottle down and walked over to Joseph with both glasses in hand. He handed one to Joseph, who thanked him gratefully and sat down behind his desk.
"Honestly, I got so caught up in the news that I forgot you were coming," Damian said. He leaned back in his chair and took a small sip from his drink.
"It was the whole Thorne debacle, wasn't it?" Joseph asked. He sighed and shook his head before raising the glass to his lips to take a sip. "It's ridiculous when our doctors aren't even safe in this city. And poor Rose, too. We may not get along but I know what she's going through, on a much closer scale."
Damian blinked a few times. He knew exactly what Joseph was referring to, and he also knew where this train of thought would take him next. He could only hope that he would leave it where his sentence ended, but he knew better.
"How's Mel doing, by the way?" Joseph asked.
There it was.
It always came back around to Melanie. No matter how hard Damian wanted to move on from her, to ignore her presence entirely, her name continued to come up. It was like a fly that wouldn't stop buzzing around his head. Damian looked off to the side for a moment and would attempt to muster up his best response.
"Doing alright, I suppose," he said.
"You suppose?" Joseph asked, with an eyebrow raised.
Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Damian thought to himself. No one could leave it alone, not Julia, not Bruce, and not Joseph.
"We don't talk much these days. I'm too busy and…look, you're welcome to call her yourself if you want. I'm sure she'd appreciate hearing from her former brother-in-law," he said quickly, trying to move through the subject as fast as possible.
For a few brief seconds, a look of sadness washed over the face of Joseph Dent. Damian picked up on it and was on the verge of addressing it until Joseph leaned back in his chair with a jovial smile on his face.
"Hey, I'm busy too. Maybe not 'owner of the most profitable company in the world' busy but busy nonetheless." Joseph shifted around in his seat and took another sip from his drink. "I made time for this meeting though, so I suppose we should get down to brass tacks."
Damian's mind was still on that brief look of sadness that had appeared on Dent's face. It was one he recognized, and he knew the source of it. Before he could fall too deeply into psychoanalyzing his friend, Damian folded his hands together and cleared his throat. He needed to refocus on the business at hand.
"Right, well it's come to my attention that it's about re-election time for you. You've done a great job as D.A, Joe. In a city full of masked vigilantes, you're making a real impact. I'm sure your mother's proud of you…and I know your father—Harvey would be proud as well." Damian made sure to include a clear distinction in his tone about who he was talking about. He knew how Joseph felt about his father and his fractured mind, but he wanted to stress to his friend that the real side of Harvey was all that mattered.
Joseph tilted his head to the side. "Alright, where are you going here?"
"It was…a mistake of mine not to get involved with your first campaign. We're friends, and I should've been right there with you every step of the way. You managed without me, but this time I want to do what I should've done four years ago. I'd like to offer you my financial funding for your re-election campaign," Damian explained.
Joseph was taken aback. "Wo-really? Damian that's…I'm flattered that you would even think to do that…" he said, trailing off.
Damian raised both eyebrows and leaned his head forward. He could tell that there was something else that Joseph wanted to say.
"I feel like there's a 'but' coming along," Damian surmised.
"I'm…not running for re-election," Joseph revealed.
The news caused Damian to blink a few times—registering the information. This wasn't a part of the act. He was genuinely surprised.
"What? Why not? You've done such good work as D.A, Joe. There's so much more that you can do," Damian said in an attempt to persuade his friend.
Joseph nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right…which is why I'm deciding to run for mayor instead."
Once again, Damian was caught by surprise. In a matter of seconds, Joseph had managed to deliver unpredictable news back to back. The delighted smile that formed on Damian's face wasn't merely part of the act—no he was genuinely happy to hear Joseph's decision.
"That's…that's great! Seriously, that's…why didn't I think about that? You'd be a hell of a mayor-" A popup message at the bottom of his computer caught Damian's eye. The message was from a Tiffany F., with the message reading: Finished those upgrades you asked for, along with something new on the side. Come down when you get a chance.
"You're one of the few people who know this, but I figured I'd done all I can from a legal standpoint. If I really wanted to make some change for the whole city, there's no better way than becoming mayor," Joseph elaborated, seemingly not noticing Damian's wandering eye.
Damian refocused on Joseph and would nod. He stood up and walked over to the bar to grab the whiskey bottle the two had drunk from.
"Well this calls for a toast, at the very least," Damian said as he walked back over to the desk. He refilled Joseph's cup, as well as his own. "To the future Mayor Joseph Dent, because no one in their right mind is going to vote for Rose Thorne."
Joseph chuckled and raised his cup in the air. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, but here's hoping."
Damian raised his cup as well and would drink the whiskey right as Joseph did. The burning of the bitter-sweet liquid rushing down his throat was one that he hadn't felt often, however it always reminded him that he was alive despite his lack of a soul.
"I suppose I can just shift my funding intentions to a mayoral campaign, huh?" Damian asked in a lighthearted tone.
Joseph placed his cup down and nodded. "I don't wanna say I like you for your money but-" He stood up and adjusted the collar of his jacket. "I like you for your money."
Damian shrugged, knowing that Joseph was simply joking around, even though for many people it was how they really felt.
"Don't they all?" he asked rhetorically.
Joseph looked down at his watch. "Hey look I should get going, I got a whole list of meetings after you. We'll talk more about this. My secretary will get in contact with yours or vice versa," he said with a slight pat on Damian's shoulder. "I'm looking forward to this, Damian. You and me, changing the city together. Our own Dynamic Duo."
Damian smiled at the analogy, but behind his smile was an amount of bitterness. His time as Robin, and the concept of Robin in general, was still very much a sore spot to him after many years. It was why he didn't have one himself. He didn't want to repeat his father's mistakes.
"Suits instead of spandex, though, right?" Damian asked.
Joseph pointed at Damian with an amused smile before turning around to leave the office. His entire walk had a new demeanor, one of confidence Damian hadn't seen before. He truly believed that having Joseph as mayor was the right call. There were very few people in the city itself that he trusted, and even fewer he trusted with mayoral power.
Once Joseph had left the office, Damian's friendly demeanor dropped to his normal, neutral self. He walked over to a chessboard that sat displayed near his bookshelf of various novels and genres and would switch the positions of both the black and white kings with each other. This caused the bookshelf to slide to the left, revealing a secret elevator.
Damian stepped inside of the elevator and leaned forward to allow for a retinal scan. After the blue light scanned over his eye, Damian pressed his thumb to what normally would've been a button designating which floor he was to go to. Instead, the button itself was a thumbprint scanner. Once his thumbprint was recognized, the elevator door closed.
The elevator brought Damian Wayne down several levels until it reached an underground section of Wayne Tower. It was something that only a few knew about—those in Damian's small circle of trust. Once the door opened, Damian walked out of the elevator and into a cave, one that had been transformed into a second Batcave. Unlike the one underneath Wayne Manor, this Batcave was much smaller. Whereas the other had several platforms across its space, this Batcave had a modernized, almost penthouse aesthetic that connected its various areas.
The sounds of bats fluttering around were music to his ears, acting as a reminder of the symbol he chose to become. Damian turned to the left and descended a flight of stairs that led him to the main floor. He passed through a room full of weapons, as well as another more traditional-looking Batsuit than his own. Once he stepped out onto the main floor, he passed by the driveway where the Batmobile would normally sit, as well as a much smaller version of the Bat Computer. Next to the Bat Computer was a workshop, where Tiffany Fox stood staring at a whiteboard.
"Tiffany," Damian said in greeting.
The youngest daughter of Lucius Fox turned her head and nearly yelped in surprise.
"Oh! There you are Mr. Wayne, that sure was fast," she replied. Tiffany turned away from the whiteboard and placed her hand on a metallic table in the middle of the room.
Damian's eyes scanned the workshop. It was full of many gadgets of his design, as well as Tiffany's, and of course, his father's from days past. On a boring day at Wayne Enterprises, he always found himself down in the cave, especially in the workshop to tinker with gadgets. He assumed that a similar reason brought Tiffany down there as well.
"You said you finished the upgrade I requested? Along with something…new?" Damian asked.
Tiffany scoffed. "What, no 'hi Tiffany?' No, 'how's your day been?' 'How's the family?' Is that a near haircut?'" Tiffany gave a confident smile and ran her hand up to her short, black curly hair, which had been cut into the style of a mohawk. "Because it is."
Such things were rather unimportant to Damian. He didn't feel the need to ask about her family, due to his less than friendly relationship with the rest of them. As for her hair, he had of course recognized the change. It was a complete departure from the shoulder-length hair she'd had ever since she was a child, but again, unimportant. However, he decided to indulge one of her questions just to put it to rest.
"...How's the family?" he asked, without an ounce of enthusiasm.
Tiffany smiled. "Well mom's still enjoying retirement, Tam's still working at Gotham General, Jace is in New York doing God knows what…and my dad and Luke are still dead," she said without skipping a beat.
The lighthearted nature of her tone left Damian puzzled. In most situations, a person wouldn't be as full of energy as Tiffany was in her situation—Damian sure wasn't in his similar situation.
"Right…" Damian trailed off, not knowing how quite to continue. "You said you had the upgrades I asked for?"
Tiffany shook her head, maintaining her smile, and turned towards the table. On it was one of Damian's grappling guns, but next to it was something covered by a blue towel. She grabbed the grappling gun and held it up for Damian to see.
"Look I'm just trying not to keep myself down on what life throws my way. You should try it," she said while peering at the gun. "Anyway, I added the electric mode, just like you said. I don't get why you need it when you have shock gloves, but you do you."
Tiffany aimed the grappling gun across the room at a training dummy torso and fired the grappling hook out of the gun. The hook penetrated the dummy through the shoulder and hooked itself to the back. Tiffany's finger dropped from the trigger of the gun, down to a button underneath it. Once she pressed it, a visible electric shock ran down the line and into the dummy.
Damian's eyebrows raised at the electric shock. His eyes followed the line, and then returned to the gun itself. He noted the placement of Tiffany's finger as the method for triggering the shock.
"The shock gloves are for close range, this…this is exactly what I need for a long-range attack. Outside of batarangs and smoke bombs, I've been lacking in that regard," Damian said while reaching out to take the gun from Tiffany's hand softly.
Tiffany stepped to the side, wearing a look of pride on her face at her creation. Damian retracted the hook back into the gun and waited. His eyes shifted down to the gun once again, pondering another possible function. Upon refocusing on the dummy, Damian fired the grappling hook, this time at the dead center of its chest. In doing so, he not only pulled the normal trigger but also pressed the button underneath so that it would emit the electric shock at the same time the hook shot out.
The corner of Damian's mouth rose in the faintest resemblance of a genuine smile. He retracted the hook again and turned to Tiffany.
"This'll work. Good job," he commended while placing the grapple gun back on the table.
Tiffany crossed her arms—her proud smile had grown wider. "You know that might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Right as Damian placed the gun back on the table, his eyes caught whatever was hidden under the blue towel. "What's this?" he asked.
"Ah, this…is the new thing I alluded to in that message. I got around to tinkering and just thinking of all the toys you don't already have…and came up with this-" Tiffany pulled the towel off, revealing a black drone in the shape of a bat.
Damian stared at the drone for a moment, before shifting his eyes up to meet Tiffany's.
"A drone?" Damian asked with a slight look of confusion.
Tiffany shook her head. "Not just 'a drone'. It's the drone. The Bat Drone, to be exact."
At the mention of the name she had given it, Damian looked both unimpressed, and unamused. Tiffany caught the look and raised both hands in defense.
"If you weren't gonna call it that, someone would've. This drone right here is exactly what you need for surveillance. It can be remotely controlled through your gauntlet, or by an external source say…me or Julia if you need us to. It can record video and audio, replicate conversations just by mouth movements, has a built-in translator for just about any language, analyze DNA and chemicals, and to top it all off…it has a cloaking mode," Tiffany explained. She placed one hand behind her back and took a slight bow. "You may applaud now."
Damian looked down at the drone again, finding it much more impressive than what he expected it to be. In all his years as Batman, he hadn't thought about a drone with such capabilities. Ever since he made the deal, he hadn't done much surveillance. Why hang back and survey the scene, when you could brute force your way through any situation without the fear of dying? Regardless, it was an invention that would undoubtedly prove useful later.
"Interesting…I might need to use it tonight. Good work, again," Damian said before turning to leave.
Tiffany followed Damian out of the workshop, only to stop in the doorway and lean against it. "Going back to chasing ghosts?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm.
"Haven't had one to chase in a while, but you know how Gotham is."
GCPD HQ - 9:45 PM
The Bat-Signal came to life, illuminating the night sky with the insignia of the Batman. Standing next to the signal was Renee Montoya, who stared up at the symbol as she awaited the arrival—of who, she didn't quite know yet. In her hand was a cup of coffee to keep her awake, which she took a small sip from. For about 3 minutes, Montoya had been standing there. She'd waited longer in the past, but on this night, she was a bit impatient.
"You better show up…," she said to herself, though it was loud enough to be heard by anyone in earshot.
"Why wouldn't I?"
The familiar gruff voice caused Renee to turn her head slowly to the left, where Batman emerged from the shadows. She looked him over once before pulling the lever to cut the Bat-Signal off.
"I don't know, these last few nights you haven't been the one answering the call. She has," Montoya replied, in reference to the bat-sized elephant in every room he seemed to step in.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Batman took another step forward. "She's beaten me here, that's all. Now, let me guess…this is about the doctor?"
Montoya scoffed. "Of course, it's about the doctor, who else would it be about? Clock King?"
"He escaped?" Batman asked.
Renee paused. She tilted her head to the side for a brief moment and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I was being sar- never mind. The news about Dr. Thorne spread quicker than we wanted it to, all thanks to Rose and her big mouth." Renee shook her head and chuckled dryly. "She'd be attractive if she knew how to shut the hell up sometimes. Now she's got the whole city thinking it was just some random robbery, and she's using it to fuel her mayoral campaign."
Batman kept his eyes on Montoya and would squint at a specific part of her sentence. He had taken a note of how she spoke about Thorne's death as if it wasn't indeed just a random robbery.
"You don't think it was a robbery," Batman stated, not necessarily asking.
"The evidence says otherwise, evidence Rose doesn't know about and I'd prefer it stay that way for now. At the scene, I found Dr. Thorne's phone. The last person he had a conversation with, just minutes before his death…was Danilo Maroni," she explained.
At the drop of Maroni's name, Batman's eyes briefly shifted away from Montoya. His thoughts returned to the previous night. Falcone had his hands in small businesses, and here Maroni was involved with doctors and surgeons. Dealing with the two families against each other was often easy, but with that no longer being the case, their control over Gotham was becoming harder to fight.
"What's your theory?" Batman asked—his eyes shifting back over to Montoya.
She took another sip of her coffee and sighed. "My theory? Dr. Thorne was in deep, probably owed Maroni some money. He tried one last time to buy himself some more time, but it was too late."
"So you think Maroni had him killed?" Batman asked, while mentally weighing the plausibility of it.
Montoya shrugged. "Seems like it'd make the most sense. What's your theory?"
Batman turned and walked closer to the edge of the roof. He stared down at the few cars moving along the street below. What was his theory? What kind of sense could he make of Thorne's connection to Maroni, and how that led to his death? There was something familiar about the situation. Somewhere in his mind, a Thorne being connected to the criminal underworld was like a feeling of deja vu, but why? Of course, there was Rose's father, Rupert Thorne many years ago, but this wasn't the same. Suddenly, the connection clicked in his head.
"I think Thorne was working with Maroni. Maybe out of debt, maybe not. It wouldn't be the first time a Thorne worked with a crime boss, specifically a doctor." Batman turned around to face Montoya. "Bradford Thorne, the Crime Doctor. Ring any bells?"
Montoya seemed confused as to where Batman was going with this, but once he mentioned the alias of the Crime Doctor, she nodded.
"Yeah…yeah, I remember him. I was just a rookie back then. He was the one patching up a lot of the criminals, especially the grunts for mob bosses. He's…" Montoya's eyes slowly widened at a realization. "Shit he's Matt's dad…you're thinking this is a case of like father, like son?"
How ironic a saying, especially in Damian's presence.
"It's a theory. Perhaps an enemy of Maroni's took out the one guy responsible for fixing up his goons," he replied.
Renee rubbed her jaw. By the look on her face, she seemed to believe in the theory well enough.
"With all of this, it makes much more sense to talk to Maroni now…but he won't talk to us…" Renee looked up at Batman with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders. "He'd talk to you, though. Whether by his own will or against it, that's none of my business."
Batman nodded. The moment he found out about Maroni's involvement, the thought to interrogate him had become the prime objective in his mind. It was ironic when thinking back to his conversation with Tiffany. He knew he'd be chasing ghosts, in the sense of trying to find Thorne's killer, but now it seemed he'd be chasing the Ghost himself.
"He's got 206 reasons to talk, it'll be up to him whether that number goes unchanged," Batman said.
Montoya chuckled and nodded. She took a sip of her coffee and turned to throw it away into the garbage can that sat next to the roof access.
"I'll tell you what, I don't envy him. Just don't crush his windpipe or something so that he can actually talk-"
She turned back around to absolutely no one. Batman was gone from his position, nowhere to be found. Renee sucked her teeth and shook her head, though there was still a slight smile present.
"One of these days murciélago, one of these days…"
Next Chapter 4: The Voice
