"Seeds of War"

Part 2 of 3

by Steave

It was a goddamn bloody mess.

Richard Dollier, one of Gotham's wealthiest, was lying in a puddle of his own blood in the middle of Central Ave. Detectives Gordon and Grayson were just standing there, watching the EMTs place their white sheet over his lifeless body. Gordon had come to realise that the white sheet was the official sign for "this woman/man has been erased from this world."

"Damn."

This was the only word that Dick could conjure up that made any sense. The fact was that there had been two murders in the past two nights like this one. Someone had been stabbed, a very wealthy someone, and then a single cut was placed on their forehead. What this symbolized, the GCPD wasn't sure. Some thought it was a member of a cult. Others thought it was a disgruntled former employee, getting back at his employers. But there was no concrete evidence, yet.

"This is the third time in the three nights Jim."

"I know Dick."

"Who could've done this?"

"That . . . I don't know kid. Listen, why don't you go home and get some rest. I can handle it from here."

"Alright, but if anything happens, give me a call, alright?"

"Will do."

Dick got back into the force's new Dodge Charger, and drove back towards home. Jim was anxious to get this nutjob, whoever he was, behind bars. Hell, he wouldn't mind shoving knife through this guy's jaw. But then he remembered Barbara, his lovely wife, waiting at home for him. He couldn't be out too late.

There was an alley nearby, which more than piqued Gordon's curiosity. Pulling out his .9mm, he wandered to the vacant alleyway, full of interest. He couldn't however get that feeling that this was a trap. Paranoia, he told himself. He then began dreaming of Barbara baking those damn good chocolate chip cookies that were waiting for him at him, and the paranoia left him.

The sight made him pause, and stoop to the ground. There were footprints made on the cold, hard concrete. Whoever had made them had recently stepped in water, making this all too easy.

"Hey, Gibbs!"

A rather plump white man stumbled from the street into the alley.

"Yes Gordon?"

"We've got our evidence. Get your men on these at once and I want to know whose prints those are tomorrow morning. There better be a file when I get here tomorrow."

"Yes sir."

"Now, I'm gonna go home and sleep with my wife."

--

He had left the footprints for the GCPD. He couldn't help but think that, no matter how ineffective they really were, they could be of some helping in solving this crime. Richard Dollier, age twenty-eight, single, member of the Board of Wayne Enterprises. He had seen him only a few moments earlier. Now he had been murdered . . . in cold blood.

He had to confess, he was about to get to Richard first. Granted, there would've been no physical harm done to the man, he would've just scared him into rethink his decision on choosing to do business with Falcone Imports. Now, Bruce would have to make a re-vote to attempt to change the Boad's minds. He would never allow dirty money into the industry that his family built.

But, none of that mattered right now. Richard, a fellow member of the Board, has been murdered. He is the third on a list of rather elite members of Gotham's society that had been murdered in the past three days. All of whom had been killed by a knife, and left with a single vertical slash on their forehead.

An assassin, obviously, there could be no other explanation. But, was he being paid? And if so, by whom? Who would want to kill Gotham's wealthiest . . .

He looked to the sky, as if asking the heavens for an answer, then . . . everything clicked. The past two victims, Harold Hughes and Veronica Hill had been employed at Wayne Enterprises. Batman clenched his kevlar covered fists and was sickened by the thought of who could be doing this. Only one man would do this, trying to get under Bruce's skin and scare him into doing business with the Falcones.

Carmine.

--

The doors were open. She never let the doors open.

Selina awoke from her father's bed. He had left Gotham on "business" or so he said. In any event, the double glass doors that led to the balcony were open. She strode to the doors, and with a pause, continued onto the balcony. The city, it was so dark, so corrupt, nothing like Metropolis.

It felt great out here, and the weather helped ease her mind of the events that had taken place recently. She had never been kidnapped before, it was, kind of exciting. The battle at AXIS Chemicals, Detective Grayson rescuing her, but most importantly, she saw the Batman.

His body, his outfit . . . the more she thought about it, she wished that he could've kidnapped her.

"Selina?"

The voice came from behind her and startled her nearly to fall over the edge of the balcony. It was a low growl, but sounded as if the creature that had spoken the word was in pain from even saying it. As if, glass was scraping itself along the innards of the creature's throat.

She whirled around out of startlement and surprise, and found him there. Draped in the black darkness of his cloak, his shape faded away, revealing only the width of his shoulders and his demon-like cowl. She searched for eyes . . . but found none.

"Yes?"

"Where is your father?"

"He . . . left. He had some business."

The Batman turned on his heels and went to the side of the balcony. Leaping onto its edge, he peered over the side. There was no way this crazy bastard was going to jump.

"Wait!"

Batman turned back to her, revealing some kind of opaque colored lenses that served as eyes.

"What?"

"Um . . . listen. I never thanked you for what happened at AXIS Chemicals."

He still crouched, his lenses staring intently in her direction.

"Uh . . . so . . . thank you."

He turned back to the city.

"Tell your father that the moment he sets foot back in my city, I'll be watching him."

With that, he flew off of the side of the balcony and Selina watched him, until his cape blended in with the city itself.

--

"What the hell do you want Dent?"

Harvey had decided to make a surprise visit to "The Boss" Sal Maroni. The man he had imprisoned only a few days earlier. And damn, he felt great. This guy had done everything, drugs, rape, murder, extortion, and it felt damn good that he had locked this sucker up in the slammer.

"Oh, just seeing how my prize catch was holding up."

"You have the damn nerve you sack of crap. First you slam me in here for being a part of some kind of scheme to get me in here in the first place, and then you have the nerve to come spit in my face."

"You know what Sal, somebody has to. You know how many people you've made suffer? How many lives you've taken away? How many goddamn children you've killed?!?!"

Harvey could feel his vein popping in his forehead, he was getting worked up, but hell, Sal had it coming.

"You better calm down Dent, before you do something you're gonna regret. Oh wait, you already did that, when you put me in here."

"No, putting you in here was the greatest thing to ever happen in my life. All that's left is to put Carmine in there with you. Then, I dunno, maybe you two can get married and have kids or something."

"Damn you Dent! I wanna know why the hell I'm in here when no one else is."

"You're in here because you killed a poor man's wife and unborn child. If anything Sal, you should be thanking me."

"For what?"

"That I got to you before Joe did."

Harvey began walking away, and Sal knew that he had just been defeated, again. So, Sal did the only thing he knew how to do, began screaming.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH HARV!!! YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET OUT OF HERE!!! YOU'RE GONNA GET DENT, YOU'RE SO GONNA GET IT!!!"

As Harvey reached the stairs, the lights went out. Then, something happened that Harvey will never be able to explain. Somone laughed. But not a regular laugh, it was a laugh that made you pause, made you freeze with fear. Harvey had to get out of here.