It took an entire half hour for Gordon to get to the nearly demolished building. That was because as he was running down the stairs of his apartment building he dropped his car keys down the stair shaft and by the second people were filling the stairway making it harder and harder for Gordon to able to see the floor. When he got into his car he was blocked by people filling the streets to see what was going on. At first Gordon relied on the power of his voice to scream people out the way; but, when he remembered he had his portable siren in the trunk he quickly got out of the car and grabbed it and put it on the dashboard of his car. The siren worked well enough; but, Gordon still had to stick his head out the window and shout at stubborn people who would not move. Gordon couldn't any closer to the building than four blocks away because of debris and falling debris. Despite his better judgment Gordon got out of the car and trudged carefully to the building. Gordon tripped a couple of times; but, when he got to the building he found that the front door was not blocked off. The inside of G.C.P.D.H.Q.2 was a mess, though seemed to be intact. The explosion seemed to have rocked things off shelves and toppled some items here and there and the foundation of the walls, ceiling and floor seemed to be knocked heavily out of place. That being said it didn't seem, to Gordon, that the building would fall apart. The stairwell was messed up, the lights had been knocked off their sockets and the stairs themselves had cracked, still though, Gordon ran up the stairs to the roof and found the door was jammed into place. Gordon struggled with the door for a few minutes; pushing it, trying to knock it over, trying to pull if off. After that didn't work Gordon shot out the door handle. Initially that was a action to relieve some of the frustration he had; but, he noticed that it was, in fact, the handle lock that was keeping the door from opening, wedged between itself and the lock hole the door was stuck in place. The gunshot forced the lock off the door and with a few shoulder thrust the door opened up.
The roof was far worse than anything Gordon could have imagined. The smoke from the explosion was like a glove choking his throat. Gordon was forced to take of his coat and place it over his head and face to protect himself from the thick smoke and cinder in the air. The roof had no definite shape anymore, the spot where the Bat signal was had been blown out and was crumbling. To the direct left of the spot the Bat signal was located the edge of the roof had been blasted off into an adjacent parking lot. All around small fires and burning wreckage add light in the darkness. Gordon tried to get closer to see if he could see what was left of the Bat signal; but, the twisted steel and glass had piled up too far for him to climb over. Somehow Gordon made his way south of the signal where the fire escapes were; cautiously Gordon looked over the edge. Not to his surprise every fire escape had been knocked to the ground by some kind of falling debris; Gordon could see from the roof that his office had been utterly wiped out.
"Damn." He groaned to himself; all his reports were in there, all those criminals that had to be processed. Gordon took a step back and fell over some metal and landed on his back. He pressed his left hand down and felt the searing pain of heat on it; quickly he drew it back and rolled over onto his stomach. As he rolled he saw it, in took him by complete surprise and even caused Gordon to yell out loud. Gordon forced himself to stand and then lean over the body.
"Jesus, fucking, Christ…" Gordon spat to himself, the sheer shock of what he was seeing made him forget to hold his jacket over his head and it fell to the ground. Gordon stood there over the partially visible body of Harvey Dent.
Dent's body was covered by some sheets of hot metal; but, his chest and head were visible. From what Gordon could see, Harvey had taken a direct blow from the explosion and probably had burns all over his body; but, he was breathing lightly. Without thought Gordon took out his cell phone and dialed.
"Kingston; its Gordon…" He yelled. "…get a squad and a ambulance down to H.Q. two right now." He listened to the man talk for a moment. "…I don't know what happened but I'm standing over the body of the district attorney, who's lying in a pool of his own blood and it looks like his face may have been cut in half." Gordon explained before quickly ringing off. Gordon squatted and got closer to the body of Harvey Dent to take a better look of his face. There was nothing he could see really; blood had drenched all of Harvey's face. Gordon inspected more closely and could see that Dent was unconscious, his eyes were closed; but, on the side of his face that seemed to be blasted off his eye was open because his eyelid had been mostly, either, burned or scraped off by something.
"Shit." Gordon let the word fall from his mouth in a long drawn out moment of shock. The sheer gruesomeness of what had befallen Harvey was enough to make Gordon sick. All Gordon could do was hold his hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting.
It was around that point when Gordon realized that he wasn't alone on the roof with Harvey. Voices came from within the chaos and revealed two men in G.C.P.D. uniforms searching through the wreckage.
"Hey you…!" Gordon yelled out to the two men; their heads jerked up in surprise to see Gordon and they stared a bit dumbfounded at Gordon for a moment. "..Get over here we got a live one!" Gordon continued; one of the men gestured for the other to walk over while he picked up a portable talking device and began talking into it. The other man trudged over the debris towards Gordon and barely acknowledged him before looking over the body. The man took a quick glance at the body and seemed not to care who it was.
"It's Harvey Dent…!" He called out to the other man who nodded quickly and began talking into the device before turning his back towards them.
"I wonder what the hell could have happened here." Gordon thought out loud looking directly at the man, who had now turned his attention back to Harvey Dent's body.
"News reported a storm coming through Gotham…" The man started not looking away from Harvey's body. "…lightning could have struck the signal causing the explosion." The man suggested. The idea of lightening striking the Bat signal and created an explosion this massive seemed so farfetched to Gordon that he almost scoffed at the man.
"Right; but, what the hell would Harvey Dent be doing up here?" Gordon continued to ask; the man barely turned his head to face Gordon when addressing him this time.
"I'm sure these are all questions that are going to come up in the investigation…" He responded very quickly. Gordon immediately decided to leave the guy alone; he seemed not to want to talk so Gordon turned around and started going through some of the wreckage.
That's when he saw it, At first Gordon looked right passed it mistaking it for just another piece of wreckage; but, something inside of him picked at him to look closer and on further inspection he positively identified it. A tightening of the chest came to Gordon; he suddenly felt unable to breathe or think. The entire roof seemed to swirl around him, his body was suddenly moving without dictation and it took the object and shoved it inside his shirt. Cautiously he looked to see if the other man was looking; but, he was not so Gordon took a peek at the object just to verify his original inspection. In his hand he held the mask of Batman.
Something was happening that Gordon knew was going on above his head and with that suspicion he realized several things. Number one: he didn't recognize either of the men on the roof; he got around the different precincts and knew most of the officers by name, and knew all of the officers by face, yet these two didn't ring a bell with him. The second was that the gun the man, who was inspecting Harvey, was holstering was not a standard issue G.C.P.D. handgun. At this man's side was a flashy Beretta, something fast…a street gun. The third was the question of how did either of the men get to the roof this quickly. At this hour all patrols are taken off the streets because of the low level of people on the street. Crimes were committed during the afternoon and early evening hours and whatever crimes that were committed at this hour were committed where a patrol car couldn't get to. Officers were kept in stations and all the stations were kept on the other end of the city; judging by the amount of time it took for Gordon to get from seven blocks away, it would take two cops, who were coming all the way from west Gotham, twice the amount of time to get to the site. The fourth was how they got onto the roof, when Gordon had come up the stairs the door had been jammed beyond capacity.
A sinking feeling suddenly started to come over Gordon; he could sense that these men were not men he could trust, and then finding the Batman's mask seemed to say two things. The first was that Batman was on this roof and the explosion probably had something to do with his being there; the second was more figurative. Every time he saw the Batman it was to discuss how to make the city better now finding this mask meant that the Batman was unable to give him the next clue and he was on his own. Gordon instantly knew that he could not leave Harvey Dent with these people. Gordon looked over his shoulder to see if the first man was still with his back towards them, which he was. Gordon slowly picked up a piece of debris. Gordon walked over back to Dent's body.
"Is he alive…?" Gordon asked; the other man put something into his breast pocket.
"For the most part" the man answered; Gordon nodded and his eyes shifted in both directions.
"...what the hell is that over there?" Gordon pointed over the man's shoulder and the man quickly turned his attention in the direction that Gordon was pointing at. With that as a distraction Gordon reached over his shoulder and smacked the pipe he had picked up over the back of the man's head. The man fell slowly onto the debris under him and Gordon followed up that action by taking his cell phone out and dialing.
"Kingston it's me again…" Gordon started. "…get a Medivac chopper down here as soon as possible to pick up Harvey Dent; but listen…" Gordon lowered his voice. "…if anyone ask I put this order through. You come down here too and bring your gun and be careful…" Gordon explained; on the other end Kingston asked Gordon what was going on. "…I don't know; but, whatever it is it's not good. When you get here I want you not to leave Harvey Dent's side." Gordon explained; Kingston agreed and Gordon rung off. Gordon leaned over the fake G.C.P.D. officer and examined what he had put inside his breast pocket, he found a key and he took it. Right after Gordon put his coat over the man's body. It covered him well and Gordon began to drag the body across the roof.
"Hey, looks like there was at least one casualty…" Gordon called out to the other man. "…and you wouldn't believe who he's dressed as." Gordon wasn't sure why he said the last part; but, something told him to do it.
"Batman?" the man answered; just from the answer Gordon knew that he was doing the right thing.
"Yeah; how'd you guess?" Gordon asked.
"Good guess, let's see it…" The man asked as he walked over.
"It's pretty nasty; you're buddy over there went down to put the body on the books, I'm going to take this one down to the morgue before the smoke causes anymore damage." Gordon explained. The man moved closer.
"Just let me see…" The man insisted; but, Gordon was already starting down the stairs.
"You can't see who he is, burns are too deep…" Gordon explained. "…we'll all know who he is soon enough" Gordon said no more and went down the stairs. The heavy body started to cause an ache in his back; but, Gordon was able to get the body down the stairs into the trunk of the car. Gordon took a deep breath and leaned against the car; he wasn't sure what the hell he was doing it; but, now that he had started it he had to finish it. Gordon opened the door and threw himself into the driver's seat and started the car.
To the right of his vision Gordon could see the sun starting to come up over the horizon. Yesterday was already gone and a new day was beginning; something immensely saddening was filling Gordon. Here he was driving out of town with the body of some strange man in the trunk of his car, wondering if Batman was alive or dead. When Gordon agreed to transfer from Chicago to Gotham he knew that it was going to be a stressful change. It takes a lot to go from success to back to the problems you tried to solve in the first place. The most disheartening thing; however, was that Gotham was much worse now, ten years later, than Chicago was when he had first began there. Gotham was showing little to no process in the war against corruption and crime. Gotham has Batman now; but, it was days like these that began to make Gordon wonder if he was able to turn Gotham over.
Chicago was bad when Gordon became chief of police; crime was at an all time high. There was an average of twenty five muggings per week and petty crimes were happening everywhere. Gordon was quick on ending the smaller crimes; his belief that when crimes of any sort are attacked and ultimately defeated it shows everyone else who commits any type of crime that the city, or state, or nation will not put up with it and thusly puts a fear into criminal's hearts; a fear that could possibly deter them from committing another crime. Gordon's belief worked well in Chicago; he put cops back on the streets and criminals back in prison. The little crimes stopped and the bigger criminals fell in line; but, that wasn't the case for Gotham. First of all at its best Gotham is far worse than Chicago was at its very worst. Petty crimes in Gotham were so rampant that there was literally no way to keep track of pick pocketing and muggings in the city. A national survey of crime found that at any given time ten thefts were occurring inside Gotham city. Gotham held the record in every criminal category for most crimes committed in any given month. Four hundred and twenty-five thefts were reported in one month and it was widely known that because of the crime families in Gotham that most crimes were, in fact, not reported. Gordon was shocked at the severity of the crime in Gotham. It took Gordon fifteen years to clean up Chicago and now here he was again back at square one with the city he thought could be saved. It certainly didn't feel that way anymore; Gotham felt like it was spiraling more and more out of control by the moment, mostly in the sense of corruption. Batman had changed so much in terms of criminals worked. While some people blamed Batman for criminals like Killer Croc and Scarface, Gordon saw it differently. Most criminals had rethought there lives, rethought the idea of living there lives day to day looking for someone to prey on; because now they knew that not far away there was going to be Batman. Something that couldn't be corrupted and wouldn't care about bail and bond prices; those who decided to become more lavish criminals and directly go after the idea of Batman were desperate, they were trying to hold on to the last thing that they had left. Batman did not create these villains, there coming to be was only a step in their own destruction. Batman had been the single bravest person in Gotham City; not only because he fought dangerous criminals on his own; but, because he sacrificed whatever life he had to take up this burden. Gordon was a professional, employed by the system, he got a paycheck, and he was able to care for his son and daughter and to put food into his own mouth. But what about Batman? What was he able to do to provide for himself? It was hard for Gordon to understand how a man could take up the burden of a whole city while simultaneously trying to balance his own life. Eventually something had to give and Gordon worried about the man who was Batman, though he'd never say it, the truth was Gotham and Gordon needed Batman.
Gordon slammed on the brakes and the car jerked to a stop. Gordon had lost himself in a thought and almost crossed over Potts Bridge. Gordon had seen his share of dark alleys and abandoned buildings; but, Potts Bridge was still the single eeriest thing he had ever seen. Use of the bridge has been strongly discouraged by the state government; the bridge was old and only standing up by some stoke of luck. Black and molded over on every inch Potts Bridge the first bridge built that lead, officially out of Gotham and it was also the last one to be fixed up. At this point Potts Bridge would have to be demolished and rebuilt in order for the construction to be successful, the state didn't want to putt he money up for it ad the main reasons were that it cost too much and that in a decade or so the bridge wouldn't be needed. Hatchmond Lake was almost completely dried up, after the Hudson River went through its renovation water stopped flowing both ways into Hatchmond Lake and thusly, after time, the lake had began to dry up. Aside from that the smell was horrible. Back in the darker days the mob would use the lake as a dumping point for all their kills, after some years the stench became unbearable and people naturally stopped going near it. In fact the lake had become so notorious for harboring corpses that the morgue was built on the other end of the bridge to accommodate. Gordon popped the door open and stepped out of the car; cautiously he walked to the trunk and listened to hear if the man had come to yet. There was no sound so Gordon knocked on the trunk to see if he could illicit a response; but, again there was no sound. Gordon was starting to get frustrated, there was a part of him that wanted the man to have come to so at least Gordon would know how to approach the trunk. But what if the man was conscious and waiting for Gordon to open the trunk, bracing himself to jump out and attack Gordon. It wasn't as if Gordon couldn't fight, he just didn't like to; it wasn't as if he was still twenty at this point in his life he wasn't sure what kind of force his arms and legs could still muster up. Gordon reached into his shoulder strap, pulled out his gun and held it to the trunk. Gordon's whole arm shook when he pointed the gun to the trunk; it was a nervous tick that he had since he was young. In his career Gordon had only shot a gun eight times, five of those times were just for the theatrical effect of scaring the criminal. Gordon breathed deeply trying to calm his nerves and get his arm to stop shaking so much; not after long he did calm down and his left arm reached for the trunk and quickly lifted it up. The gun started shaking again; but, the man was still knocked out in the trunk and Gordon let out a sigh of relief, the gun went back into the shoulder holster and Gordon bent down to pick up the man. The man was a lot heavier than Gordon remembered him being when he put him in the trunk. It took several hard pulls, three swears and eleven grunts for Gordon to get the man out of the trunk and slumped on the pavement. Gordon dragged the man to the edge of the road where the ground steepened into a small beach like area before leading into Hatchmond Lake. The fall wasn't deadly; one could roll down the embankment and simply get dirty. Gordon already felt bad about what he was going to do next; he took the man's wallet out the man's pocket and looked at it for a second before taking the money out and putting that back in the man's pocket. Chances were that this guy was not going to able to get back up the embankment because the ground was severely damaged and unstable; Gordon would call one of his non-crooked officers and have him pick up this man, the man would be detained after that because he had no identification and by Gotham law people in services of the G.C.P.D. needed proper I.D. in order to file reports or filed as witnesses, or victims. That little law would keep this guy out of Gordon's hair for a while since Gordon was going to keep his wallet; that would allow Gordon enough time, hopefully, to start to understand what was happening around him. Without anymore thought Gordon rolled the man down the embankment and watched as he rolled, silently hoping that the man didn't inadvertently roll into Hatchmond Lake. The man rolled like a rag doll for what seemed to be an hour and stopped just short of the lake; but, his right hand did rest inside the water when he was in his final position after rolling. Gordon sucked his teeth.
"Sorry buddy" Gordon said as he put the man's wallet in his own jacket pocket.
The sun was at that point between early morning night and early morning day. When the sky was purple and blue and the sun was in a half wink to the world, when Gordon had started the car back over the bridge; it took him a long twenty seven minutes to get to the morgue because he of broken tree braches and debris on the road. Gordon stepped into the morgue and instantly did something he rarely ever did: he buttoned up his coat. The cold chill of the morgue was not very welcoming, and neither was the solitude. Morgues weren't usually heavily populated with employees; but, upon entering one one could expect to see some kind of receptionist or something to welcome them. This; however, was not the case in Gotham morgue; there was absolutely no one there to greet Gordon when he entered, so he just continued into the back of the morgue, where the bodies were held. Gordon was relieved to see that there was a lone woman standing over a body taking notes. Gordon cleared his throat and walked up to the woman.
"James Worthington Gordon…" he announced as he approached the woman with his badge in his hand. "…I'm with the G.C.P.D. I need your help with a body." Gordon tried to sound casual; but, the woman was giving him a look that he couldn't place. Slowly and without looking away from Gordon's face the woman took the badge and then looked at it for a long moment, and then she started to bend it; but, to no avail.
"I get a lot of fake cops in here…" The woman said in a monotone voice; as she handed the badge back to Gordon. "…Harleen Quinzel; what can I do for you?" The woman introduced herself with a light handshake.
"Haven't I seen you somewhere before…?" Gordon asked, sidetracked by the fact that the woman and her name seemed very familiar. The woman gave a disinterested nod.
"You probably have…" She answered. "…I work at Arkham, I'm a psychiatrist there." Quinzel tersely answered; Gordon nodded and smiled.
"I actually just finished reading your analysis on killer croc…" Gordon admitted. "…I have to say your report surprise me; most of the psychiatrist in Arkham believe the criminals are insane and offer them the easy way out." Gordon explained.
"A psychopath like Killer Croc may be crazy; but, he's not incapable of thinking…" Quinzel started. "…He knew what he was doing; thusly, Arkham is not the place for him." She concluded; instantly Gordon liked her; but, his purpose for being there suddenly hit him.
"O.k. well I need your help with something…" Gordon started. "…are you acting Diener?" Gordon asked; Quinzel nodded.
"Yes; until the other guy comes back I'm working this and Arkham…" Quinzel started. "…ever since this Batman character appeared there have been less admissions into Arkham." Quinzel explained.
"You could say he's working you out of a job…"Gordon chuckled; but, Quinzel didn't even seem to give the slightest hint of being humored. "…not much of a joker I see." Gordon said under his breath.
"I don't really like funny people." Quinzel responded; revealing that she had heard him.
"Either way I need you to lie about having a body come through here…" Gordon said bluntly. Quinzel's face dropped instantly and she turned away from Gordon.
"Listen I don't deal with G.C.P.D. politics; so I'm not going to be apart of any corruption you may have planned. If you want to do that then I'm sure you have a way of getting me out of this office." Quinzel fought back.
"No, no you don't understand…" Gordon struggled to find words. "…I'm doing this to avoid corruption; I'm doing this to help the integrity of the G.C.P.D." Gordon answered.
"I'm sure; but, I cannot help you." Quinzel answered; Gordon's anger rose to a point where he couldn't control it.
"Listen…" he said sternly. "…I've been working to save this city for a long time now. I've seen good people come and I've seen good people go. I use to pride myself on being above the corruption; but; sometimes you can't escape it. Sometimes to destroy the things you hate the most is to use there own techniques, you have to show them that you can be ruthless and that the most important in your life is to be rid of those things and that's what I'm trying to do, I'm trying to save this city and now I need your help to do it." The moment was tense; Gordon hadn't meant to say nearly as much as he did. Gordon turned away from Quinzel; he'd have to figure out another plan.
"Wait…" Quinzel started. "…I know what you mean; you have to understand that what you're asking could cost me my job." Quinzel answered.
"I know; but, this city is going to be too busy picking up the pieces to worry about you and I when this is all done." Gordon explained. There was a long silence."
"How am I going to fake this?" Quinzel asked.
"The medical examiner for the G.C.P.D. is sick, if you stick to the story that the body was processed by him then they'll have to wait until this guy comes back; they'll pressure you to break the law; but, I can deal with that from my office." Gordon explained.
"Fine; who's the body?" Quinzel asked.
"We don't know; you're waiting for D.N.A. results to come back to identify the body; it was burned pretty badly." Gordon explained; Quinzel nodded and sighed.
"Fine." She answered.
"This is going to be over soon, I appreciate your cooperation."