Chapter Three: This Just In
She had no idea when she pressed the order confirmation button, that she'd never pick up the dumplings and fried rice, that she'd never send another mortgage payment or argue with her neighbor about where the parking spots stopped and started.
The news studio was bustling with activity as Gwendolyn was prepped to go on air for the Breaking News Report on the discovery of John Daggett's body.
As she sat and had her lip gloss touched up and her hair given one last fluff, Vincent, one of the security officers walked onto the set.
"Hi Vin, how's Frances?" Gwendolyn asked as she looked through her notes.
Frances was Vincent's wife who was currently ready to give birth to their first child at any moment, she was surprised to see him even at the news station.
Vincent's normally serious expression melted into one of pure joy as he smiled from ear to ear, "Michael will be here any day."
"Michael?" Gwendolyn asked, she was certain it was going to be a Vincent Junior.
"After my father."
"Congratulations again," Gwendolyn said before a frown took over her exquisite features when Vincent pulled a titanium revolver from inside his slate grey sportscoat and laid it down in front of her.
"What's this?" Gwendolyn asked, not questioning what kind of firearm she was looking at since god, guns, and the grand ole' party were the three pillars of her childhood.
"Your father wants everyone armed with this masked terrorist hellbent on terrorizing this city."
Gwendolyn couldn't help but roll her eyes but nonetheless checked that it was loaded, and that the safety was off. "Red is dead," she murmured, a childhood mantra.
Coffee around the campfire, gritty with grounds that got stuck in your teeth was her eucharist.
Before Gwendolyn began her Breaking News report, she set the .357 underneath the desk.
The OWL Newsgroup had gotten a jump on all the other stations with the Daggett story and the executives on the top floor couldn't help but crow with the anticipation of ratings.
As the Breaking News song began, Gwendolyn squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she addressed the camera. At the rear of the studio, Barsad, complete in his OWL security guard uniform, sans bandana, opened the security doors and let Talia, Bane, and a gaggle of armed men inside.
Earlier, Barsad had hacked the security system and programmed a pre-recorded feed for the camera footage.
To the eyes watching the comings and goings of the OWL Newsgroup skyscraper, everything appeared to be business as usual on the high-definition screens.
Bane and Talia watched from the dim wings as Gwendolyn delivered the shocking discovery of Daggett's body in a dumpster behind the high rise he called home.
"John Daggett's body was discovered this morning in a dumpster," Gwendolyn stated solemnly before taking a brief pause, her voice lower when she resumed speaking. "He was butchered and discarded like trash and you my fellow Gothamite's hear it from me first, not our illustrious James Gordon or that flying rodent who is supposed to keep us safe. I will always be here for you," Gwendolyn said to the camera, never blinking. "I stand with you and for you, I will bring you the news of our beloved city becoming overrun with criminals, deviants and this new masked murderer who is trying to disrupt our lives, scare us."
From the darkened wings of the studio, Bane crossed his arms over his broad chest as he watched and listened to Gwendolyn's fiery passion grow as she first condemned him and then echoed the pseudo-psychological diagnoses from the news station's variety of medical experts.
Behind his mask, he smirked as Gwendolyn continued condemning him and vowing that she would personally help this city quash the masked mad man and tormentor of the city.
As Gwendolyn continued speaking, large glossy images of James Gordon and the Batman flashed on the screen beside her.
"I won't get driven to a five-star restaurant and eat dinner that you, the tax-payer, the citizen, invariably ends up paying for," she practically spit as an image of Gordon eating at a hifalutin restaurant flashed on the screen beside her.
"I will not do this to you my fellow Gothamites, I won't ignore you while I stuff my belly," Gwendolyn seethed next to an image of billionaire Bruce Wayne and James Gordon drinking dirty martinis with an oyster course flown in from Rhode Island and a watercress salad that was hand-picked just hours earlier.
Gwendolyn's report came to an end, the lights remained illuminating her after the camera stopped recording.
Talia gave low orders to the armed men that served as a dangerous entourage and watched from the recessed part of the room as the men with heavy firepower fanned out in the room, all moving fluidly in their steel-toed boots and sand-colored fatigues.
One of the paid goons marched towards Gwendolyn, holding his gun loosely at his side as he shouted for her to stand up and raise her hands above her head.
Gwendolyn nodded rapidly, feigning fealty before she deftly pulled the titanium revolver from where she'd stashed it under the desk and fired two full metal jacket bullets in rapid succession to the center of the approaching man's thick body.
Gwendolyn turned and quickly emptied the last four powerful rounds into three of the heavily armed men.
"Do not hurt her."
Talia's voice from the rear of the room kept Gwendolyn safe from a hail of return bullets.
Gwendolyn dropped the empty revolver onto the surface of her anchor's desk where it loudly thudded.
The hired men of danger set about zip-tying everyone's hands on the set, followed by fat strips of silver tape over their mouths.
All the instant hostages lastly had hoods slipped over their heads and ordered to keep their bellies on the ground, followed by a litany of threats.
Talia slowly came into view, clapping slowly, "bravo."