"Hey, are you all right there? Can you hear me at all...!?"
He slowly opened his eyes. Gordon was standing over him, looking concerned. "You OK?" the commissioner asked him worriedly.
"Yeah, I've fine," he groaned as he heaved himself up. "Step back, step back please, give him some room," Gordon instructed the crowds that had gathered around the circle of policemen that surrounded the Batman now. The Caper Crusader glanced at the wires sparking all around him. "The tires and glass must have grounded the electricity," he remarked, gesturing at the wrecked cars one which several power lines were discharging against.
"Yep, I'd say you're really lucky now," Gordon told him solemnly, "A few inches the other way..."
"Have they reached Police Headquarters?" he interrupted the commissioner.
"Afraid so," Gordon glanced up the block, "They have people guarding the entrance who're heavily armed; we're trying to formulate the best strategy to get inside right now. And who knows what they're planning...?"
A siren wailed behind them. "Commissioner," a cop called from the front of a police wagon that had pulled to a stop nearby, "We caught Dozier and Linseed trying to flee the city. Crichton committed suicide in his office; guess he knew the jig was up once the fake reality disappeared."
"Hmm," Gordon nodded, waving his partner in the law to follow him towards the now opening back of the police wagon. Two glum-looking men sat in the back. "Horror of horrors, is this the end of the show!?" lamented the one on the left, seeing the two newcomers looking in at him.
"Oh cut it out!" Gordon rolled his eyes in disgust, "This isn't a TV show anymore. OK, Dozier," he climbed into the wagon and approached the man, "Right now, I'd say you're facing charges of violating FCC guidelines for propaganda and racketeering, and possibly other crimes. So if I were you, I'd spill everything you know about Bill Anderson's scheme, and maybe we can get some of those charges reduced."
"Very well," Dozier sighed sadly, "I just...I just wanted a big break...I never thought it would come to this..."
"Tell us everything," the Batman stepped over him menacingly. Dozier gulped worriedly. "You know, you're a lot more intimidating in the suit, even if you're less crazy than he is..." he complained.
"Speak!" the Batman grabbed him by the collar.
"It's OK, it's OK," Gordon pulled the suspect loose. "Go on," he instructed Dozier.
"It was about three years ago," Dozier began slowly, "I was running a small media company here in the city; we were treading water, and I was looking for a big break. Then one day, this guy came to my office-the guy who ended up playing his butler on TV-by the way, if that Alfred served him, would...?"
"No!" the Batman snarled in his face, "I guarantee the real Bruce Wayne knows nothing of me. Got it!?"
"Yes, yes, I get it," Dozier nodded quickly. "He offered me a small fortune to film a set of Batman movies. Said it was fully legitimate, with your firm approval," he gestured at the Caper Crusader in front of him, "We shot four films very quickly. But the warning signs were there already; I was only supposed to film and let others direct. But a lot of things didn't look right; the various explosions that went off looked too real at times. But I ignored it, thinking it was all just my imagination. We after the fourth film, it looked like we were going to have a fifth, but then word came to me that it was being cancelled, and they were switching to a TV series, the rationale being a quicker turnaround time. I've filmed about a hundred and twenty of them-and couldn't help noticing that the series has gotten dumber and dumber by the episode, as if whoever was behind it thought his audience was retarded or infantile. I complained when they guy playing Alfred dropped off my last paycheck, but he snarled at me that all I needed to do was shut up and film, or else."
"OK, I think that might qualify as extortion too," Gordon nodded. "Will you be willing to testify against him and Bill Anderson if it came to trial?" he inquired.
"Yeah," Dozier nodded, "I had strong suspicions people were being kidnapped and drugged up or something to be the villains in each show; the way half of them were so battily over the top was a big warning sign. I never approved of drugging or anything like that; if they were snatching people off the streets..."
"They were," the commissioner nodded. "OK then, Linseed," he turned to the mayor, "Did Bill Anderson give you your office?"
"He...he did," Linseed nodded glumly, "He sent a message asking me to meet him in a parking garage about the same time he met with Dozier here," he pointed to the filmmaker, "Me and Hamilton Neale both. He told us there was heavy corruption afoot in Gotham's city government, and the two of us would be bulwarks against it, and would be paid well for it. I jumped at the chance then; I always have wanted to be mayor my whole life, while Neale always wanted to be police commissioner-unfortunately for you," he gave Gordon an apologetic glance.
"Understood," Gordon apparently forgave him, "And I believe it was about that time former mayor Snyder died in a supposed car accident..."
"Anderson and that kid Gervis tampered with the brakes, I know now," Linseed confessed, "I kept it buried for so long because I didn't want to believe it, and because they were putting forth such a positive image to the public. Sure, what they were doing was wrong, but such an apparent morally upstanding figure like he was portraying might be just was this city needs..."
"But it was built on a lie," the Batman reminded him coldly, "Don't ever forget that."
"Right. Well, anyway," Linseed took a deep breath, "I thought Neale and I were going to be co-equals. Maybe he trusted Neale more, maybe because he was so dumb and easily manipulated he leaned on him more, maybe because he appointed him to the commissioner's position, he felt he could be more of an enforcer for him. But after a while, Neale started to get more and more of the publicity. I guess I got jealous. So I complained to the supposed Batman. Next thing I know, I find an episode being filmed around me where the Penguin-his Penguin, the easily beatable one-was running against him for mayor, and I was being reduced to comedy relief around him. Sure, he gave the position back to me at the end of his supposed episode, but once shooting wrapped," he gestured at Dozier, "he got in my ear and warned me, and I quote, 'I'll do a whole lot worse than humiliate you if you ever try and forget your place again."
"Do tell," Gordon wrote down information on his notepad, "Did he do anything else, Linseed?"
"You bet; he actually stole the city charter and altered it to reduce my position at Neale's expense. Then he went on TV crowing about its supposed true text as a way to try and get Neale pumped up with even more power. After which, he forced me to carry a copy at all time so I'd know he was really running the city," he dug out a piece of paper and extended it forward. The Batman snatched it off him and read:
SECTION IX: CITY GOVERNMENT
The officer of police commissioner, being of the utmost importance in keeping Gotham City free of criminal elements, is to be considered the most important in the city, more so than even the office of mayor or any other similar position. As such, the police commissioner's appointment shall be for life, and his power in the position fully unlimited, including immunity from prosecution, as the war against crime shall never be over, and thus the commissioner must never be hindered.
"No wonder Neale started letting it get to his head," the Caped Crusader shook his own, "Absolute power corrupts absolutely no matter who you are. Anyway...?" he turned back to Linseed.
"Yes," the mayor bowed his head, "A year later, my conscience started bothering me. I realized that what I was going along with, holding people in Gotham by force and twisting reality to something out of the 50s for one man's continuing ego trip, was just flat out wrong. I wanted out, and I wanted to spill the beans to someone, anyone. The other Batman must have bugged my office and heard me musing over doing it with my personal assistant. It wasn't long after that that my wife and her sister were abducted. When they were returned three days later, my wife was different: belligerent, spiteful, spouting extreme feminist rants that she'd never done before. She started starving me, waking me up in the middle of the night to berate me, things that were way out of character for her. And her sister now thought she was named Nora Clavicle, and she was on an evil mission to destroy both all men and the city," he shook his head hard, "That's when I broke with Anderson for good; seeing him do that the woman I loved and showing himself to be a hideous backwards sexist bent on making all women look bad..."
"They filmed that as an episode, didn't they?" the Batman leaned forward, "I heard it was appallingly sexist."
"Yep," the mayor nodded, "Another script got shoved under my door, with my lines highlighted and the words Strike Two on the last page, making it clear I'd better go along with it and keep my mouth shut going forward or else. I filmed it, and felt terrible about it. And shortly afterwards, both my wife and her sister..." he put his head in his hands in grief, "Hanging themselves was probably for the better; death was probably preferable than having to live the rest of their lives in a drugged up haze like that..."
He sniffed in grief. "I understand," Gordon patted him on the shoulder, "If you agree to testify against Neale and Anderson, I can convince the D.A.'s office to go easy on you. You'll have to resign as mayor immediately, though, for the good of the city."
"I understand," Linseed agreed, "Consider this my resignation. The mayor's office wasn't worth the price it..."
Suddenly, loud cracks rang up from up the street. "Look out!" a nearby cop screamed to bystanders, who frantically dove out of the way before a fiery comet slammed into the restaurant across the street, blowing it up in a flash. "What the devil are they doing now!?" Gordon glanced up at the top of Police Headquarters down the street, where more blasts of flames arced down into the city, causing even more explosions.
"I think they wholly intend to destroy the city, Jim," the Batman said grimly, flinching as a coffee shop blew up next, "We'd better move immediately; it won't be long before they break out the Smilex gas or start freezing everything in sight."
"At least the fire department's still running smoothly," another nearby cop pointed to a fire engine careening down the street towards them with its engines wailing.
"Wait, look," Gordon pointed. For the fire engine was manned by a squad of clowns wearing firemen's uniforms. They screeched to a stop in front of the clothing store next to the burning restaurant, drew several hoses off the engine, and aimed them at the store-but the hoses spat out fire instead of water, and in seconds the clothing store was burning just as badly. "I'll handle it," the Batman told the commissioner, "Form a perimeter to make sure no others get through."
He stomped towards the fire engine, unnoticed by the clowns, who were merrily spraying fire into the next several buildings down the block. He grabbed the nearest one, spun it around, and punched it hard in the face, making its nose honk hard, and thus alerting the other clowns that something was amiss. They turned their hoses towards the Batman and sprayed him with fire. He quickly thrust his cape in front of his face as a shield, hoping the material would prove fireproof enough. It started smoking, but held, allowing him to rush forward blindly and launch himself at the clowns, knocking more them down. He dodged the spray of fire two more were sending towards him, kicked one hard in the face, then grabbed the hose off him as he fell and turned it towards the remaining clown. Now burning from head to toe, the last clown ran around frantically in circles, looking for a way to put out the flames. "Allow me," the Batman told him with a smug grin, drawing another explosive star from his utility belt and hurling it at a nearby fire hydrant. The hydrant exploded, sending a jet of water flying right into the clown and thus sending him flying backwards clean across the street, right into the hands of the waiting police. "Let it be said I at least put out the fire for him," he remarked, his grin getting wider.
Loud growls made him turn to see the other clowns back on their feet and charging him. He rushed them, and soon a strong martial arts brawl was unfolding. In the end, however, it ended as the previous one had, with all the clowns laying groaning on the sidewalk, thoroughly defeated. The police rushed forward to arrest them as well. "Nice work," Gordon came over to commend him.
"It's a start," the Batman hauled himself to his feet, "Now we have to..."
"Help! Somebody help! I'm Commissioner James W. Gordon, you can't do this to me!" came the shout of the fake Gordon from up the street. Both men looked up to see the imposter being shoved into the back of another paddy wagon in front of Police Headquarters by numerous goons. "Get your police wagon ready," the Batman instructed the real Gordon, "You're going to have more people to cart in."
He leaped into the clowns' fire engine, the motor of which was still running. He threw it into drive and tore up the street after the second police wagon, which had pulled into traffic at a high rate of speed and was running cars off the road. In no more than a minute, he'd pulled alongside it. He then swerved hard sideways, ramming hard into the police wagon and sending it spiraling temporarily out of control into the opposite lanes. Gunfire made him turn to see a quartet of the would-be Two Face's goons chasing after him on motorcycles, firing away with machine guns. Unfazed, he slammed on the fire engine's brakes, stopping it too quickly for the goons to register. The front two slammed hard into the rear of the fire engine and fell into the street, groaning. He quickly dug out a batarang launcher and fired one at the goon zooming around the driver's side towards him, hitting the goon square in the head and knocking him off his bike in a flash. He ducked as a spray of bullets from the one remaining goon on the passenger side shattered the cab's passenger window. Throwing the door open, he jumped up to the roof, seizing one of the fire hoses, aimed it down at the goon, and sprayed him with fire. Screaming, the goon jumped off his bike and ran around in a panic. "Does no one ever remember to stop, drop, and roll?" he mused out loud, jumping back down into the fire engine's cab with the hose, "Oh well, his loss..."
Cradling the hose close, he burned rubber after the paddy wagon again. He quickly caught up to it again and slammed into it once more, this time sending it careening hard off the road to crash into a telephone pole hard. Leaping from the fire engine, he sprayed all three Joker goons exiting the cab with fire before they could draw their weapons, leaving them to run around on fire screaming as well. He stormed towards the back of the wagon right as another goon jumped out, smacked the goon's machine gun away, and chokeslammed him hard to the asphalt. "Batman, is that you!?" the fake Gordon exclaimed happily inside the back, "Thank goodness you found me; they were going to take me to...Batman, you've changed," he frowned up at the figure now standing over him, "Why are you dressed this darkly...?"
In a flash, the true Batman slugged the fake Gordon hard in the face, breaking his nose, then kicked him hard out of the paddy wagon, sending him sprawling over several nearby trash cans, narrowing avoiding being run over by the real Gordon's paddy wagon and the numerous police cars that had followed the fire engine, now braking to a stop nearby. "Mercy, Batman, mercy!" the fake Gordon protested, fearfully squirming away from the dark approaching figure, "What has come over you to turn on me like this!"
"You're under arrest for impersonating a police officer, racketeering, corruption, and whatever else the Gotham police can find," the Batman snarled, hauling him up and punching him in the chest.
"Hey, hey, it's all right!" the real Gordon protested, pulling him off the imposter. "Believe me, I'm, really going to enjoy booking you on the impersonating an officer charges," he grinned triumphantly at Neale.
"What do you mean impersonating an officer!? I am Commissioner James. W. Gordon of the Gotham City Police Department...!" the faker protested.
"No, I'M James W. Gordon!" the true commissioner barked at him, "And I don't appreciate someone using my name for corrupt purposes!"
"No, I'M James W. Gordon!" Neale refused to let go of his delusion, hinting that perhaps the mind-altering drugs Anderson had shot him up with had caused permanent brain damage, leaving him stuck with his false identity, "And I order you to let me go free, and then go to Police Headquarters; there still might be a chance to save my darling daughter Barbara after those vicious fiends...!"
"Your 'darling daughter' captured and tortured prisoners!" the Caped Crusader growled, seizing the older man by the collar, "That's hardly 'darling' to me! Not to mention she committed blackmail too! If she's dead, I'm sorry, but she was no saint!"
"What...what are you saying, Batman!?" Neale gasped, looking horrified, "That's just not possible! Barbara would never do anything so despicable and cruel!"
"I was there in her apartment; I saw the dungeon she built in there myself! She'd been holding women prisoner there for over a year; they'd all testify to it!"
"No, no, you're wrong, Batman; you're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong!" the fake commissioner howled miserably, "Barbara's an angel! An absolute saint on earth! She is utterly incapable of harming anyone in the slightest, even in self-defense! It's bad enough to turn on me, Batman, but to betray the most beautiful little girl that God ever made...!"
"Don't invoke God in front of me, Neale!" he thundered, tightening his grip on the man's collar, "Right now I'M God as far as you're concerned...!"
"Stop, that's enough!" the real Gordon warned him, making him loosen his grip on the imposter slightly. "You won't believe his words? Then maybe you'll believe photographic evidence. These were taken a few minutes ago in her apartment," he shoved photographs of the dungeon and its now liberated victims in his imposter's face. Neale's eyes went wide, but he almost immediately looked away. "These, these are obvious fakes, Batman, whoever you are!" he denied the evidence to them, "I don't know why you would believe such terrible photographic fakery...!"
"You hardly even looked!" Gordon upbraided him.
"I don't need a closer look to know these photos are false, a vicious slander by some cowardly, dastardly criminals to destroy poor Barbara's reputation...!"
"Her name's Yvonne, if you care!" the Caped Crusader snarled. "We're wasting our time with him," he muttered to Gordon, "Run him in and book him!"
"With pleasure," Gordon pulled the fake commissioner out of his partner's hands. "OK, Hamilton Neale, even if you don't know that's who you really are, you're under arrest for..."
"Release that man, now!" came a thundering shout from nearby. The Dark Knight's eyes shot up and widened. "You've got to be kidding me!" he muttered, "There's no way you're not dead..."
"Batman, the real Batman, thank God!" the fake Gordon exclaimed in delight. Sure enough, Anderson, still in his own, campier Batman suit, was staggering towards them, injured but still alive. "I said release Commissioner Gordon, now!" he ordered the real Gordon.
"I am Commissioner Gordon, and I don't answer to hardcore criminals like you," Gordon told him off.
"You see, Batman, he and this fake Batman are delusional; they don't believe I'm me," the fake Gordon explained to his own partner, "And those vile criminals who raided Police Headquarters insisted they'd frozen you in ice and run you over with their parade floats..."
"They did, Commissioner, but I was able to activate several spare Bat Heaters in my utility belt to melt the ice," the imposter Batman explained proudly, "From there, it was a simple matter of crawling back to the Batmobile and drinking enough Bat Life Restorer to return myself to full strength. And now, fake Batman, you are going to jail for kidnapping the Commissioner..." he seized hold of the Dark Knight's wrist.
"Let go of me!" he slapped Anderson across the face, sending him reeling backwards. "It's over, Bill Anderson," he growled at him, advancing menacingly towards him, "You've had your fun being me for the last three years, but playtime's over. The real Batman's back, and I'm taking over again-and if you refuse, you're going to pay even worse than you already will for what you did to me."
"No, I am the real Batman!" the imposter shouted, raising his fists menacingly, "You are just a filthy, evil, irredeemable criminal who needs to pay your debt to society, and you will pay for trying to pretend to be me!"
"Destroy him, Batman, destroy him for good!" the fake Gordon cheered him on.
"Shut up!" the real commissioner snarled at him, making the faker take several large steps back. "Come on, give yourself up easy.." he strode towards Anderson. The fake Batman shoved him aside. "Come on, let's go now, you and me; I'll prove to you, and to all these people," he gestured at the crowd starting to gather around the scene of the accident, "That I am the one true Batman once and for all."
"Careful what you wish for, Bill," the real Batman advanced slowly towards him to the sounds of the crowd cheering, clearly wanting a fight, "You may regret it."
"I won't regret it. I've been a better fighter than any filthy, degenerate criminal I've come across yet," his foe bragged.
"You've really outdone yourself, Bill, demonizing every criminal as subhuman. That's probably how you helped instill fear in everyone," the true Caper Crusader gestured at the crowd around them, "Tell me this: a poor woman steals a loaf of bread to feed her starving children. Does that make her a vicious, inhuman animal?"
"Stealing under any circumstances is evil, and anyone who steals anything has no right to be called human," his foe declared defiantly, coldly convinced of his correctness. "And anyone who would dare say anything in support of any criminals is themselves subhuman too."
"What about corrupt policemen, then, the ones who intimidate and steal themselves...?"
"Police corruption is grossly overrated, a hit job by criminals to discredit the noble forces of law and order, all of whom should be venerated as heroes, and crime fighters like myself and Robin-God rest his soul-as gods. Police corruption does not and never has existed in Gotham City, and any stories to the contrary is an effort by evil criminals to..."
"All right, I've heard all I need to hear," in a flash, the Batman launched himself at his imposter and delivered brutal martial arts blows to him. Anderson collapsed like a sack of potatoes and tried to crawl away, only to be hauled up and punched and kicked some more. "Citizens! I've done so much for you over the years; come to my aid!" he cried to the crowd. Nobody moved a muscle, and many people applauded as another harsh kick sent him flying into another set of trash cans. "Citizens, why do you not help me, your shining light of justice and truth!" he begged them, trying to squirm away from his opponent.
"You're no hero; you took over our city and our minds!" a man yelled at him, pushing him back towards the true Batman. "Mercy, mercy, no, please...!" the imposter waved his arms frantically as he was lifted high in the air.
"Sorry Bill, you wanted this fight," the Batman told him coldly, slamming him down back first through the windshield of the nearest parked car to loud cheers. He hauled the dazed, staggering Anderson, who clearly could not put up much more of a fight, back to his feet. "Bam! Pow! Splat!" he mockingly declared as he threw three final punches that sent Anderson down for the count in the middle of the street to a loud ovation. "Get him out of here, Jim," he told Gordon, rolling the groaning fake Batman over to him, "We've got more important things to do right now."
"Let's go, William Anderson," Gordon hauled him up, "Time to admit you've lost..."
"That's what you think!" the fake Batman drew a radio. "Commander, enact the Omega Plan immediately! Set off the charges and blow Gotham City sky high!" he commanded his militia leader, "If Gotham won't serve me, it doesn't deserve to exist!"
"Give me that!" Gordon snatched it out of his hand and waved cops forward to take Anderson into custody. "This is Commissioner James W. Gordon-the real James W. Gordon. Do not, I repeat, do not set off any explosives!" he warned the militiamen, "Anyone who does is going to have to answer to me and the real Batman personally!"
"Don't worry, Commissioner. We're not going through with it," the commander said, sounded disgusted, "He hasn't paid us in months anyway; we're done with him."
"Good for you. You can redeem yourself in the next few hours then; I hereby deputize you and your men temporarily to provide security in the city; we're going to need every man we can," Gordon ordered him. His switched off the feed. "All right, you're going to jail too," he seized his imposter and dragged him towards the nearest cruiser.
"Horror of horrors, Batman has been defeated!" Neale moaned in agony, watching the man he'd put all his faith in being loaded into the back of the real commissioner's police wagon with all the fireman clowns, "Batman never once has failed; this shouldn't be happening! The world as we know it has come to an end...!"
"And cut out the melodrama too!" the true Batman slapped him across the face before he was loaded in, "Not everything in life is a matter of life or death! You disgrace the name of Jim Gordon by your histrionics alone!"
"That's right," the real Gordon glared the imposter down, shoving him in with Anderson and the clowns. "As for you, Reppton Stafford," he glared down the man who thought himself Chief O'Hara as several legitimate cops dragged him towards the paddy wagon as well, "You're charged with everything Neale's charged with, and are thus dishonorably discharged from the Gotham Police Department," he emphatically pulled Stafford's badge off his chest, "You had your play time before, but now us real cops are going to handle everything going forward."
His lip quivering and his expression one of stunned shock, Stafford proved unable to say anything before he was loaded in as well. The Batman's attention was now diverted back down the street towards Police Headquarters, which he'd driven well past now after pursuing the other paddy wagon. "Jim, look," he alerted the commission, pointing up into the sky. Several helicopters were maneuvering towards the Police Headquarters building, each with several giant objects suspended underneath them. "Hoo boy. That's one really big Box," Gordon exclaimed softly, seeing one dangling underneath one of the choppers.
"They're getting set for the finale," the Batman said softly, "It looks like they have a freeze ray and several missile launchers coming too," he pointed at several other items underneath the helicopters, "They're going to hit Gotham with everything they've got."
"Commissioner," Gordon's radio buzzed, "Major emergency in the Narrows; we've got at least two dozen Joker-headed drones flying over the streets there now, dousing everyone with Smilex gas. And we've got reports of swarms of penguins with rockets on their backs going through the Narrows too. What's your advice?"
"Commissioner," another officer buzzed in as well, "Squads of goons are rampaging downtown, smashing storefronts and setting fires everywhere. Send in for backup quick."
"Acknowledged; I've deputized a whole bunch of people, and they'll be arriving soon, I hope," Gordon answered both men at once. "What can we do here?" he asked the Batman worriedly, "We can't be everywhere at once, even with a militia under our control now..."
"Just do what you can, Jim. Put out the fires as best you can. I'm going to try and cut the head off the snake before it really strikes," the Batman trudged back towards the fire engine, "Cover me when you're done. And be quick; they'll probably make the final strike soon..."
