Back at Wayne Manor, night was beginning to fall. Bruce was already down in the Batcave, getting ready for his nightly prowl. He was in full costume, tinkering with his latest gadget, a grapple claw, when Alfred walked in behind him. He didn't have the best of expressions on his face, and was carrying a phone. "Master Bruce, Mr. Allen is on the phone," he said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. George Allen was a very short, very angry major shareholder in Wayne Enterprises. Bruce could hear the sound of his forehead vein swelling up over the phone.
"I'm busy, Alfred. I'm about to go out."
"Master Bruce, while I understand your decision to refuse Mr. Nashton's proposal, the board doesn't. Perhaps it's best to take five minutes to explain." Bruce acquiesced to his butler's request, and took the phone.
"Mr. Allen. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Wayne! What's all this about us not taking Nashton's proposal? I was mortified when I heard how you treated him on the links today!"
"George, the man has very, very visible criminal ties. It's not in the company's interest to consort with people like that."
"Those rumours of criminal dealings are just that! Rumours! I demand you set up another meeting, this time with the full board!"
"George, let me be frank. While I own 51% of Wayne Enterprises' shares, Mr. Nashton will never deal with any part of this company. Have a good night." Bruce clicked the end call button, and handed the phone back to Alfred. The butler started to roll his eyes, stopping when he caught the look Bruce was giving him. "Alfred, what would you have me do? There's no reasoning with Allen."
"That may be true, Master Bruce, but you could certainly be a little less curt when you speak to the men that control the future of your company."
"Noted, Alfred," Bruce said, half-heartedly, whilst looking at his computer screen. An icon was flashing. "That would be my cue. The sun's gone down, and it's time for Batman to go and capture an escaped lunatic. Wish me luck."
"Good luck, sir," Alfred offered. Bruce climbed into the Batmobile, and was soon off on his way. Alfred listened to the roar of the impressive vehicle, becoming duller by the second. He sighed a little to himself, making his way back up the stairs of the Batcave into Wayne Manor. He had many jobs to attend to; dusting, wiping, tidying. General butler duties. He headed to the pantry to collect his feather duster, when Wayne Manor's incredibly loud doorbell echoed through the house. Abandoning his quest for the duster, he walked over to the mansion's front door, and upon opening it, received the shock of his life. Standing on the other side of the threshold was a huge, hulking man, easily over seven feet, wearing a fedora and trench coat. Thanks to his clothing and the darkness, Alfred couldn't make out any other features. "G-good evening, sir. May I help you?"
"Bruce Wayne," the figure said. Well, growled. Alfred was rather taken aback.
"I'm s-sorry, sir, but Master Wayne is currently out. May I take your name, or a way to reach you, for when he returns?" Alfred asked. The figure stared at him for a few seconds, before turning away, and back into the rain. Alfred watched him walk down the path, before tentatively shutting the door. He shivered slightly. Something about that man just made him uneasy.
Outside, the man pulled out a cellphone and dialled a number.
"Bruce Wayne isn't home. The butler is."
"Well, leave a message with the butler, then." The phone clicked, and the man turned back around, and headed back towards the door. He rang the doorbell again, and waited. Alfred look back at the stained glass window in the door. His every nerve was screaming at him to just ignore the huge fellow at the front door, but the butler in him wouldn't allow it. He headed back towards the door. Just as he was about to open it, the whole door came flying off of it's hinges, and straight at him. He dodged, but the door managed to wing him, sending him flying to one side. The large man was advancing upon him. Alfred looked around, looking for any way to safety. Behind him was a closet. Not just any closet, though. Alfred threw the door open and climbed in, pressing a small button on the wall as he did so. Steel sheets coated the inside of the closet. Wayne Manor had a number of these panic rooms throughout the house, thanks to Bruce's new obsession. Huge fists rained down on the door, but thankfully, they had little to no effect. Alfred tried to stand up, but a sudden pain shot its way down his leg. In all the excitement and terror, he hadn't even noticed, he'd broken it. Adrenaline, and sheer self-preservation will do that to you. The fists continued to pound against the door, before eventually subsiding. He checked the CCTV monitor in the closet. The giant seemed to be on the phone. The conversation last a couple of seconds at most, before he put the phone down, and took out a small envelope, and left it outside the closet door. He then left the way he came in. Alfred, ever the cautious individual, decided it was best to stay in the closet until Master Bruce came back. All he could think about was the mess he'd have to clean up.