December 8, 1982
It had taken me nearly three hours to park the car. It hadn't taken me that long to actually find a parking spot. That had been easy. Convincing myself that meeting with the head of organized crime in Gotham was a good idea was what took me so long. In the end, I decided that Thorne needed to understand that not everyone was afraid of him. So, after three hours of driving around, I parked the black Mercedes. I got out and ran across the street to Polanski's.
Once I got to the door, two thugs stopped me from entering.
"No one gets in tonight."
"My name is Bruce Wayne and I am getting in. Either let me in or I'll get someone down here who will let me in. How does Gotham Police sound?"
Instantly, I was inside. Once in, a barrage of sights and smells invaded my senses. The small restaurant was poorly lit and incredibly cramped, except for an open area by one booth in the back. Obviously, that was by designed. The place smelled of sausage, wine, and too much cologne and perfume.
I slowly weaved my way back and forth until I reached the booth in the back. Thorne was a large man, both in figure and influence. He was well over three hundred pounds with red hair that was slowly turning white. As I got there, two men stood up and searched me for weapons. When they found none, I was seated.
"No gun, Wayne? You must be stupider than you look." Thorne said with a chuckle.
"I'm not afraid of you, Rupert. You can't hurt me." I replied boldly.
"Oh really? Look around, Wayne. You're in my house. There are cops and judges here. Lawyers, other public servants. All here under my dime. This is my world. I could kill you in a second and make it look like an accident. Or I could not even worry about it and just kill you."
"You wouldn't. Maybe for someone else, but not me. I'm too famous."
"Maybe." Thorne said as he leaned forward. "But what about your butler? I'm sure he's not too famous. You made a big mistake coming here. Now, you're mine."
Suddenly, I had a sudden urge to run.
"Now, Wayne, I want you to get up and leave and in the morning, one of my lawyers will be over to discuss signing over part of Wayne Enterprises to me."
"OK, Thorne." I said as I got up.
I couldn't get out quick enough as I weaved my way back to the front door. Once I was there, I raced back across the street to the car. Once inside, I sat for what seemed like hours at the steering wheel, shaking. Suddenly, I came to a realization. There was no one that could stop a man like him. No one here, anyway. But, maybe, with some training, I could become that man. However, in order to get out of town free, I needed a good excuse.
So, after a quick stop at a liquor store, I went to the docks. I dumped three of the four bottles into the river and then threw them back into the car. Then, I went and found a stick and wedged it between the seat and the gas pedal. Then, I started the car and put it in drive. The car fired forward and launched itself off the dock.
After that, I sprinted back to the road and hailed a taxi. Once inside, I asked, "Where will $500 get me?"
"Anywhere." the driver said through a thick Indian accent.
"Airport." I said shortly.
Once at the airport, I stole the passport of a man who looked liked me. With that, I still had enough cash on me to purchase a ticket on a private plane that was leaving for France. I would have nothing when I got there. I would have to make my way to Munich where I held a Swiss account. I could empty that and use it on my quest. I hoped that Gotham wouldn't slip too far down to hell while I was gone. I needed to save her and to save her, I needed help.