October 20, 1989

7:00 PM

It had taken me only twenty minutes instead of the usual forty to enter the city. I had already decided that visiting Jim Gordon would be the first thing on my list and that is where I made my way once I entered the city limits. Quickly, I fired across town, making sure to avoid large streets so to avoid attention, both from the police and those who happened to see a large man wearing a cape and driving a motorcycle much too fast.

Once I got to GPD Headquarters and parked the cycle across the street, I swiftly climbed the adjacent building and made my way towards Jim Gordon in Major Crimes.

When I got outside his window, I noticed a few things. First, I noticed that he wasn't there. Second, I noticed the still lit cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. So, obviously he had been here recently. But it was the coat on the coat rack that let me know that Gordon was still in the building.

Quickly and quietly, I opened the unlocked window and slid in. Lucky for me, the room was darkly designed and poorly lit which would allow my initial appearance to him to occur under the proper circumstances. I had decided that I would talk to him and see if I could get him to cooperate with me. Then, utilizing his help, I would go out and begin my work for the evening.

Fifteen minutes went by before Gordon entered the room. I waited patiently as he sat down and began to fill out some random paperwork. Finally, when I couldn't handle the wait any longer, I stepped forward and cleared my throat.

Instantly, Gordon reached to his side and pulled out his sidearm and aimed it at me. The look in his eyes told me that I had succeeded in scaring him.

"Who are you?" Gordon screamed.

"Bruce Wayne told you about me. Trust me, Detective, we have the same goals." I growled.

"I thought he was kidding." Gordon admitted. "Rumor has it is that Wayne is a drunk."

"Wayne is a friend. Now, Detective, will you let me help you?"

Detective Gordon seemed to consider the offer for a bit.

"Why should I? What are you going to do that we can't?" Gordon asked suspiciously.

"I am incorruptible. Just like you. But, unlike you, I work outside the law. I can go where you can't, I can do things you can't." I fired back.

"I can't work with a killer." Gordon said.

"I won't kill, Gordon. But, I can promise you that I will give you everything. I will get the dirt out of your department and out of the courthouse. I'll give you the Mob. I'll give you everyone. I just need your help to do it."

"The Commissioner is going to be against you and so will the Mayor. How do I help you without letting them know?"

"I won't take anything. Only ask for information. If you think I need a file, make a copy that I'll destroy later. You'll have complete deniability."

"What about the cameras? They'll see you anywhere and they'll hear everything we say."

"No. I've managed to hack into your security feeds. Anytime I come, I'll have looped the feeds for the time I'm here." I admitted.

Finally, it appeared that Gordon was out of questions. He sat back down at his desk, removing his glasses and massaging his temples. Then, he looked up.

"What do you need to know?"

"Anything you guys can't prove." I replied sharply.

"There's a new gang out on the docks. We don't know their name yet but they're always led by some guy wearing what looks like a red trashcan on his head. They keep stealing from the boats that come in. It's really killing business down there."

"Thanks, Detective."

"Whatever. Just get-"

I didn't have time to hear what he said. I had already disappeared silently out the window, on my way to the docks to stop this Red Hood Gang.

October 21, 1989

12:01 AM

Robert Buhrer

Success! We had just finished our biggest take of the year at the 2nd National Bank in Gotham. The boss said that our cuts would be somewhere around seventy to eighty thou. I couldn't even imagine that much money. Stealing shit in Gotham was so much easier than in Metropolis. The cops there actually gave a fuck as to what we did. Here, nothing. It took us nearly two hours to get into the vault and nothing. I'm almost positive that some sort of alarm must have gone off. No one checked it though.

We had just finished loading up the last of the stash when something moved behind us. Lucky for us, we all had at least two guns fully loaded with plenty of ammo to spare. Nothing was going to get us and we definitely weren't going to go down without a fight. Especially not to some fucking cops.

"Bobby! Go check that shit out!" the boss yelled at me from the loading bay of the UHaul style truck we had stolen for the job.

"What the fuck, boss? It's probably just some fucking cat!" I replied indignantly. "Make Jonesy go!"

"Why the fuck should Jonesy go?" the boss replied, jumping down from the back end of the truck to come at me.

"Because Jonesy is just a hired muthafuckin' thug! I actually do something other than holding a goddamn gun." I replied, knowing I was pushing the limits with the Boss.

Finally, the Boss got right in my face and just when I was sure he was going to kill me, he smiled and backed off.

"Jonesy, go check and see what that was." he said with a dangerous smile.

"What the hell, man?" Jonesy replied.

"Do it!" the Boss said, drawing his Uzi and pointing it at him.

"Fuck!" Jonesy replied as he walked towards the end of the alley where the sound had come from.

While Jonesy went to go check out the noise, we put the finishing touches on our packing job. Finally, once everything was in order, we closed the sliding door to the trailer and were ready to pull out. We waited nearly five minutes before The Boss finally lost his cool.

"Jonesy! What in the hell are you doing down there? Did you find some man to do it with or something, you fag?" he screamed from the back end of the truck.

There was no answer.

"Bobby, take Karl and find the stupid bastard before the GPD finds us." The Boss said quickly.

"Fine."

Just when I stepped out of the truck, the lights in the area went out. But, they didn't go out in a "power went out" way. No, it was more of a "somebody broke all the lightbulbs" thing.

"What the fuck?" Karl said next to me.

All of the sudden, something massive moved next to me. Before I could turn and see what it was, Karl yelled out in pain. I turned back around to see Karl laying on the ground, his eye bloody.

"What the hell happened?" I said Karl, bending down to try and pick him up.

That was when something landed on the roof of the truck. Quickly, whatever it was smashed through the windshield of the vehicle. Suddenly, the Boss yelled out as he was launched from the vehicle towards the nearest dumpster. Gunfire rang out as whoever was left in the truck tried to fight back against the monster. However, whatever they were doing wasn't working. People continued to fly from the vehicle as the monster reached in and grabbed them only to throw them from the vehicle. Silently, I prayed hoping that each member of my gang would just stay down, because whatever it was would kill them without even thinking twice, I was sure of it.

Suddenly, the black monster turned and spotted me. Whether he had known I was there the whole time or just discovered me, it didn't matter. I was screwed. It launched itself from its place on the truck towards me. It landed right in front of me and swiftly turned and kicked me in the center of the chest. I flew across the alley and hit the wall of the bank we had just robbed.

Looking up, I saw this...thing standing over me. Suddenly, I was more afraid that I had ever been in my entire life.

"Wh-Wh-What are you?" I asked in fear.

Quickly, he reached down and picked me up by my jacket with one hand. He lifted me off my feet and brought me up to his eyes.

"I am Batman."

Then, all I knew was darkness.

10/21/1989

2:13 AM

Det. Jim Gordon and Det. Harvey Bullock

"You found them like this?" I asked the CSI who greeted me. The scene was one like I had never seen before. A large loading truck with what seemed like the contents of Second National Bank in the back was still here. Laying around it were six men, each with a weapon that had been fired. Each man had either a large contusion on their face or a broken limb. Something got to them.

"Yes, Detective." she replied firmly.

"What's the deal?" Bullock asked next to me, obviously not patient enough to wait for the CSI to present the information to us.

"We aren't sure. The Bank had security cameras on this area obviously but as you can see, the lights got knocked out. However, it was a half moon tonight, so we can sort of see what might be going on."

Interested, I replied, "Show me the video feed on the alley."

"Ok." she replied as she turned and walked inside.

Bullock and I followed her inside the Second National Bank and followed the maze of Forensic Investigators and street cops to the security room in the back. Once we were inside, she shut the door.

"What's that for?" I asked with suspicion.

"We don't want anyone else to see this." she replied softly.

"What in the hell does that mean?" Bullock asked rudely.

"This is what it means."

The second she started the video on the small TV on the desk, I was mesmerized. Within moments of the video starting, a loud crack was heard as the lights were blown out. Then, a shadow launched itself from behind a dumpster and onto the truck that had been parked outside the bank. We watched as the shadow smashed through the windshield of the truck in one single blow. While the moon hid behind a cloud, we lost vision of what was going on. However, we still had sound. Screams and gunshots echoed out throughout the small alley. Suddenly, the light returned and we saw the shadow holding a man about a foot off the ground with only one arm. We heard as the man asked in fear what the thing was. Instantly, the shadow pulled the man closer and whispered something to him before throwing him against the truck.

As the CSI reached forward to turn off the video, a brick dropped to the bottom of my stomach. I knew what that shadow was. Or at least I thought I did.

"What the hell was that?" Bullock yelled angrily next to me.

"You tell me." the CSI said snidely.

"Give me the tape." I said suddenly.

The look the CSI gave me was one of complete confusion.

"Sir, that's in direct violation of our code. All evidence must be taken away from the scene by CSI and documented at HQ."

"I know what the code says." I replied hurredly. "I'm sure Commissioner Loeb will want to see this tonight. I'll take it down to Forensics in the morning and give it to him."

"Alright, but if I get in trouble for this..." she replied.

"Seriously? In this town?" I shot back.

"True." was her only response as she gave me the video and walked out of the room.

Bullock waited until she was out of the room before he went to work on me.

"Ok, Gordon. What the fuck do you actually want the video for?"

"I want to look at it more. If I think it's worth it, I'll bring it to Loeb. If not, it'll just go to evidence." I replied, only being half honest.

"Whatever. You going home then?"

"Yeah, you can take the patrol car. I'm going to walk back." I replied simply.

"Sure. Say hi to the missus for me." he replied, showing a rare bit of something that wasn't contempt. I would have appreciated it if I could have.

"I would if I could." I mumbled back.

"That bad, huh?" he replied knowingly.

"She moved out yesterday. It's was I was still at HQ when this call came in."

"Yeah well ain't life a bitch. Get home, Gordon, shit's not safe 'round here." Bullock said, turning to leave.

I waited for Forensics to close up before I left the scene. Finally, when everyone was gone, I began the trek home. All I could think about was whatever that thing was and if it really was so good to help whatever he was with whatever he was doing. I was so entrenched in my thoughts that I didn't notice someone appear behind me.

"Good evening, Detective."

Luckily this time, I didn't draw my weapon. However, I did jump approximately forty-five feet in the air and nearly fell over.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I yelled at him as I turned around.

"This way." he said, motioning towards the next alley.

"Fine." I said, oddly not questioning his strange choice of meeting location.

He led me to the other side of the dumpster that stood in the alley. Once we were there, he turned on me.

"They call themselves the Red Hood."

"Who does?" I asked in confusion.

"The gang on the docks." he growled. "I planted a couple mics back there and listened in on them while they were breaking into the safe."

"You couldn't have stopped them then?" I yelled in frustration.

"They set up motion sensors around the perimeter of the safe room. I wouldn't have been able to get in without them noticing. Had to wait for them to come outside."

"OK. So it was you back there?"

His lack of reply gave me my answer.

"Well, good work, I guess." I said, withdrawing the security video from my bad. "They got you on tape. What do you want me to do with it?"

"It doesn't matter." he replied impatiently.

"Why not?"

"Because Channel 16 already got ahold of a copy. I was able to get into the bank and make a copy of their tape. I altered it a little bit to get rid of the obvious images of me."

"What's this about for you? Why are you doing this? And what in the hell does giving it to Jack Ryder have anything to do with this?" I asked, my voice getting much louder than I wanted it to.

"I'm doing this because I know what it's like to have the most important part of your life taken from you. I'm doing this so no one has to suffer through what I did. And I gave that video to Jack Ryder so all the criminals in town can see what will happen to them if they don't stop what they're doing."

I stopped and thought for a moment.

"That sounds great. Prove it." I challenged him.

Suddenly, he reached back around and pulled a file from seemingly nowhere.

"A list of names and aliases for the men I stopped at Second National. This is the man they were led by" he said, pointing at the name on the top of the list. "As you can see, his name is Joseph White. However, the Metropolis police say they think it's been nearly thirty years since he went by that name for anything other than legal purposes. His aliases include Joe Kerr, Oberon Sexton, Jerry Robinson, and Michael Mifflin. Nicknames also include The Jester, Black Jack, and The Closer. His profile states that he is mentally unstable with possibly diagoneses being Bi-Polar Disorder, Schizophrenia, and Antisocial Personality Disorder. He is a sociopath who has no concern for others. He believes himself to be on top of the world, even though he remains only a small squad leader in an up-and-coming gang in Gotham. More than likely, he has murdered, raped, and stolen. Even more likely, he has done all of them and feels no remorse for them. He's a dangerous man and he needs to be locked up."

"Wow." was all I could muster in reply.

"I do the work that I need to do, Gordon. I'll give you everything. Evidence, psychological profiles, bank records, everything. In return, I just ask that if I ask you for something, you give it to me."

" the way, what do I call you?" I asked, as I began to search my jacket for my cigarettes.

"Batman."

"Batman, what kind of name is that?" I said, finally locating them. "Hey, do you want a smoke?" I asked as I looked up to him.

He was gone.

"Goddamn. I have a feeling that's going to become a pattern."

10/21/1989

7:03 AM

Bruce Wayne

"Our top story this morning, a bank theft was stopped by a mysterious presence last night around midnight. Six men, all members of the new Red Hood Gang, were beaten and captured by an unknown person. Each of the robbers were armed with mini-machine guns and flash grenades. However, that wasn't enough to stop someone from taking the law into their own hands." Jack Ryder said as he opened the news program.

"Did everything go as planned, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked me from the kitchen.

"Yes, Alfred. Although I'm worried about this Red Hood Gang. The man that led the small crew last night worries me most of all." I replied.

"Why so, sir?"

"His profile suggests that he's a total lunatic capable of killing anyone and everyone in his way. He's one bad day away from completely losing his mind and then we're in a whole new ballgame."

"You should ask him out to dinner and politely ask him to go to Metropolis." Alfred replied in jest.

"Very funny. Hopefully, Gordon and Loeb can get something on him that will stick and he'll go away for the rest of his life."

"Ah, if things were only that simple in Gotham City."

"Again, too funny." I replied, rolling my eyes at the sarcastic old man.

Alfred's questioning seemed to cease and I returned my attention to the television as Commissioner Loeb addressed the public.

"After a brief review of security footage, we have learned that this figure calls itself "Batman." We know that this Batman stopped six armed men from robbing a bank and while we appreicate the effort, the GCPD does not condone vigilante activities. Therefore, Batman, and any other vigilantes that are sure to come about from this display, are enemies of city of Gotham. If anyone spots him or has any information on his whereabouts, please contact the Gotham Police Department."

"Who is in charge of capturing this vigilante?" a reporter in the front row screamed.

"Detective Jim Gordon will head up the newly created Batman task force. It does not matter that this has only occured once. It will NOT happen again."

I reached forward, grabbed the remote, and turned the tv off.

"Good fortune, Master Bruce. It seems that your ally is supposed to be searching for you."

"Yes. Something like that." I replied softly.

10/21/1989

11:01 PM

"Good evening, Detective."

Gordon only jumped a little bit tonight.

"Damn, how did you get in here? I locked the windows." he asked.

"The vents are still open."

"Great, here's knowing that you can get to me anytime you want."

"I have no interest in getting to you, Gordon. But, do you have any interest in getting to me?"

"No, I'm only a part of that task force because I showed Loeb the tape. I'm not sure if I trust you entirely, but I know that you aren't going to be stopped by the Police anytime soon."

"Good. How's it looking for our Red Hood leader?"

"Not good. He may get out because you interfered."

"Why?"

"You aren't a cop."

"You should deputize me."

"Oh yeah, that would look great. The cop that is supposed to be hunting Batman makes him a figure of the law."

"Any new info for me tonight?" I asked.

"No. Now, get out."

I was out before he even knew I was.