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Detectives Autumn Williams and Mike 'Big Man' Bailey suspected none of the three convicts were responsible for the Harding homicides. Theoretically it was possible, as all three were young hoodlums wreaking havoc in Gotham at the time, but the crime didn't fit the profile of any of the three at that point in their career. Detective Williams combed through the cold case file searching for any leads while Detective Bailey checked through whatever evidence was collected from the scene. They traveled to the state's maximum security prison and interviewed Denning, Munson, and Royce. The detectives felt uneasy. The cons used the exact same words to describe the crime and the timing, Denning was scheduled for transfer to another prison next month, was suspect. Yet all three had specific knowledge of the crime scene and it was enough for the Gotham D.A. to feel comfortable charging them. Four Gotham City police officers assigned to transport the prisoners paid the price in the desert a few miles east of National City.
"This is how we're gonna play this. Any of you mother fuckers, except for you, Glasses, so much as breathes wrong it's a bullet to the head. Glasses is our special ticket. So if she fucks up we'll shoot two hostages. Get it, Glasses? Two! Gut shots, so you get to hear them scream in pain before they die!" Oliver sounded confident, in charge, and fully committed to carrying out his threat.
"I understand," Kara answered standing still with her arms away from her sides. Don't say anything else. He's on a roll now and if you interrupt he'll take it like you're trying to steal his power again. Listen and plan. Let him do the talking – no more pleading. If he gives the order to start shooting hostages I'll have to take my chances and see how many I can save. Right now I have to focus.
"Give one of those knives to Munson. Take an extra one for me. Yeah, the paring knife, in case I have to cut off little itty bitty parts when we're up in the copter. We can't do Glasses all at one time if we're gonna keep the pilot in line. Better scream, cry, and beg, Glasses. Make the pilot want to keep you in one piece for as long as possible cause I guarantee you'll regret it if you don't. I'll even make you a deal. I'll put a bullet in your head before we shove you out of the copter if the pilot is suitably concerned about your welfare."
He's really enjoying himself. Talking about torturing people, killing people, it isn't a threat with him. It gives him pleasure telling people what he's going to do to them. Sadistic son of a –
Danine's cry filled the air.
"You answer me when I tell you something, Glasses, or I'll blow a hole in this bitch right now."
"Sor-sorry," Kara fake stuttered. What the hell does he want me to say? I didn't hear him ask me any question. I'll reaffirm his dominance, maybe that's what he wants. "I understand. I'll follow you're … orders."
"Damn right you will. Royce take those three. Leave the cripple there. He's no good to us anymore."
"Yeah, well I'm taking a couple of souvenirs from him first," Royce chuckled as a meaty thunk sound followed by John's cry filled the kitchen. "Hey, don't be upset there, cripple, now you got matching hands. Just you stay real still while I cut off your cute little pony tail. Wouldn't want the blade to slip and cut your fucking throat."
These guys belong on Fort Rozz – stuck in the phantom zone forever!
"Okay, that was fun," Royce said after a few seconds. John's breathing was labored and he mewled in pain. "Now you, and you, get up. DON'T turn around. Keep your arms straight out. Good. Nice and slow."
The kitchen phone rang again. Kara listened intently as Oliver picked it up after a minute.
"WHAT? Yeah – I know the fucking copter is outside. We'll come out when we're good and fucking ready to come out, police bitch. We ain't playing by your rules. You're playing by ours. Get it through your fucking head!"
The handset slammed back down as Danine cried out.
"Hah, they thought we were going to go running out like a bunch of new fish lining up for chow. I don't care what Glasses said about the snipers, either. We'll take our shields with her leading the way. Those two extra you got, Royce? You're the last one out with those two walking backward to cover our asses. If they start to run shoot them. Munson, how's it looking out there?"
"They're not moving around where I can see them. Can't hear anything over the damn copter."
"You're middle. I've got the front with Glasses leading the way. Listen up, Glasses," Oliver ordered. "The fate of all of these hostages is on you. If you fuck up we'll shoot them all – like I said before, don't make a difference if we die today. You lead to the copter. Once you're there stand on the side of the door. When Munson and Royce are on board you and I will get real cozy and join them. Got it?"
"Got it. Yes."
"We'll go out in another three or four minutes. Let them sweat a little. Get their heads thinking we're in here doing the hostages or we decided not to come out. Then we'll surprise 'em. I'll take right side, Munson you take the left side. Make sure we don't have any cops lined along the building when we get out. Royce, you keep those two shields fucking tight on our asses," Oliver admonished.
The kitchen phone rang again. Oliver let it ring.
"Yeah. We got 'em worried now. Good. Give them a little head game," Oliver's satisfaction was evident.
He's getting cocky, now. Everything he said about what the cops are saying is true. Guess he's spent enough time in prison to know what the cops are going to do. I can hear them outside wondering what is going on in here. A few cops hidden by the entrance to Catco … no one hidden near Noonan's.
"Glasses, you're up. Slowly keep stepping to your right. That's it, arms straight out from your sides unless you're going through a door."
Damn it! He's moving behind me with Danine. Sounds like he's about … five or six feet back. Oh, oh my, John, I'm so sorry I didn't help you! Concentrate, Kara, or you're gonna get someone killed. He's still alive … maybe the doctors can reattach some of his fingers … do your part right now. Get everyone to the helicopter safely so you can take care of business when the hostages aren't in danger.
"Hold it! Stop! Don't fucking move, Glasses."
Kara stopped in the doorway from the kitchen to the front of the restaurant. She thought Munson and his hostage were standing by the door to keep an eye out for the police.
He must have moved before I got here. Why are we stopping?
Kara heard Oliver picked up the kitchen phone.
"We want three million in unmarked bills before we leave, police bitch. Keep that copter right where it is with the propellers going …I suspect it won't take more than … fifteen minutes for it to be delivered right in front of this place. We'll send a hostage out to retrieve it and make sure it's all there and it better all be there," Oliver slammed the handset down. "Okay, give them a minute to let the rest of the cops know, then we'll head out. They won't expect us."
He thinks he has all the angles covered. I'll show him the error of his ways as soon as the hostages are safe.
"Move, Glasses!"
Kara walked slowly through the familiar coffee shop. She could hear Oliver and Danine still about five to six feet behind her. Another con and his shield, probably Munson and Mandy, following. She heard police commanders scrambling to implement a plan of action as the kitchen phone started to ring again.
"Don't pick it up, Royce," Oliver ordered. "Get your bodies and go."
Kara approached the front door and slowed down unsure of what Oliver wanted her to do.
"Get through the door, Glasses, now!" Oliver yelled. "One more screw up and this bitch is dead, now go!
This is it!
Kara opened the door and walked outside toward the waiting helicopter.