The alert had been immediate, and for the first time, Nightwing had cause to use that tracker that he had told Red Robin about only recently. Oracle had given him the address, which the tracker confirmed, so on the bright side at least it worked.
Unfortunately, the first time he used it, it was already too late.
The street was a mess, unconscious bodies of living...crooks? He had no idea who these people were, but based on the fact that he knew that Red Hood intended to go it alone, the guy would try his luck against the criminal element sometime. What they were guilty of, he did not know, and right now that seemed unimportant.
The growing puddle of blood under the mauled body of the former Batclan member drew all the attention. Finally, Red Hood was the center of it, having all of Nightwing's undivided attention, but it was not in the way any of them had expected.
Red Robin was keeping an eye on their sixes, managing to hold it together while all Nightwing could do was stare, stare, stare…
Red Hood...Jason was a crumpled mess, his body curling in on itself in a vain attempt to protect him. His face was one giant bruise with blood trickling from his nose and mouth and there was some fluid that had pooled in the one visible ear. The clothes were also drenched in blood, which meant that there were some kind of wounds beneath them. There were, however, no signs of any holes, so nothing like a knife or a gun was used.
Idly, he spotted a gun laying on the ground in his peripheral.
Based on what he could see, there were only a few ways that Jason could have...died. No holes meant no stabbing or gunshots were responsible. Outside of some weird health issue, or unknown weapon that you could imagine being from a movie, the only other possibility was that he was beaten. To death.
Damn it, he was not the investigative type. That was more Red Robin, but he was busy doing his job here. That left him to crouch onto his knees and bow his head, shutting his eyes tightly as powerful emotions welled within him.
Maybe there was more than one feeling in him, but the biggest one was anger. It was anger towards whoever had done this and it was to himself. He knew better. He knew better than to let Jason go off on his own. This was why the Batclan had been formed; so that this didn't happen.
It was so predictable that Jason wasn't going to give up the vigilante life. He had flat out refused Huntress when she had demanded his mask. He had hoped that the younger man would have called it a night after everything, but guess who was wrong. Of course he was out here, still trying to be a tough guy, but now with better fighting skills. Fat lot of good that did him.
From what Oracle had told him, there had been someone else here, someone who dressed up as Batman too. If what she had seen was to be believed, that someone was the Joker. A lot of questions there, but right now none of them were on his mind because deep down he knew that he didn't give a shit what they were. Because that lunatic had murdered Jason.
It didn't matter about the bad attitude, or how he rubbed people the wrong way, Jason did not deserve this. No one did. But only the Joker would do something like this and not think twice.
They had to find him, to capture him, and bring him to justice for Jason's sake, if not for the hundreds if not thousands of people he had killed over the years. That's why they were crime fighters, to save those they could and bring closure to those they couldn't by bringing their perpetrators to justice.
Yet that didn't stop him from seeing his fists pounding the Joker's grinning face, punching and punching and sending blood and teeth all over the place. Make that bastard suffer for every life he had even taken, break every bone in his body so that he couldn't hurt anyone again.
His hand was beginning to hurt, taking him out of his thoughts. Why was...oh, he was clenching so tightly that his fist was starting to hurt. He knew a way to make it feel better…
"Nightwing? You alright?" Red Robin asked, his body turned in such a way that he was looking at the older vigilante from the corner of his eye, but also facing down the street. "Talk to me here."
Nightwing managed to suppress a bitter laugh. "No, no I'm not alright." His eyes were back on Jason's mangled body, burning the sight into his memory. He wasn't going to forget this, not for a very long time, if ever.
"You can't let this get to you," Red Robin said. "We can't stay here either. Not when just anybody can show up. We need to do something and we need to do it now. Let's come up with a plan, then do it."
A plan, yeah. They needed a plan. Nightwing knew what he wanted to do, but the sight of Jason's body urged for him to do something else. The kid was still in uniform with the outfit and mask he provided still on. That, and anything that was tucked away in his utility belt. They couldn't leave him with that gear still on, not unless they wanted to potential tip off anyone about them.
But, Jason needed to be here for the cops to find too. However, if the cops showed up and found him naked, there would be even more suspicions. Damn it, going off to find and beat up the Joker was looking like the easy thing to do, but it wasn't one anyone could do right now.
Deciding to throw it all to the wind—because after everything in the past few weeks, he was reaching his limit with all this shit—he scooped up the fallen vigilante and stood up, carrying him away from where he had died.
Red Robin looked like he wanted to say something, but he shut his mouth and said nothing. That was for the best, if only to calm down the turmoil wreaking havoc in Nightwing's mind. He'd allow himself to be tongue-lashed for disturbing a crime scene later; right now, it was to try and clean up a mess that he had allowed to happen.
Only later when Jason was laid to rest, when their struggling Network was still secure, and they were able to move forward, then he would accept and all consequences.
He was suppose to protect those that made up the Batclan. He was suppose to make sure that no matter what happened, anyone he fought crime with was going to be going home that night with no pains, or injuries. He had his successes and he had his failures. When would he learn his lesson and do what he was suppose to do?
When?
The car drove over one of the main bridges that connected Gotham to the mainland. Most of the city's infrastructure, from commercial to residential, and even industrial, contained itself on the island that was the heart of the city. There were sections on the mainland, of course, but for the sights and the symbols of the city, all could be found on that island surrounded by the Gotham River.
Currently, Gordon was riding shotgun, Sarah at the wheel chauffeuring him. It was a quiet time for the two of them, a moment to enjoy each other's company without needing to be focused on all the carnage around them. The Commissioner indulged himself for the time being, knowing how short such moments would be.
Once they reach their destination, it would be business, where he was her superior and she his subordinate. In the meantime, he could be her husband and enjoy their time together. Neither were big on small talk, which is why they both valued the quiet moments. When not at the station, being commissioner and lieutenant, the pair of them would go on drives, one of them at the wheel and the other enjoying the ride.
Sarah had a preference to be the driver and Gordon wasn't able to deny her that unless she occasionally offered. Otherwise, it was a silent agreement that she was the one with the keys.
As he reclined in his seat, Gordon gazed out the passenger side window and noted the sight of men and women in combat fatigues marching up the sides of the bridge. Some were carrying wooden blockades similar to the kind law enforcement used to block off streets. There were others he had spotted taking post at the midpoint of the bridge. It seemed like they were cordoning off the city and odds were that they were on the other bridges sans Pioneer.
He didn't need anymore evidence to say that the National Guard had arrived. Curious that they hadn't entered the city proper yet.
"It looks like they're coming in force," Sarah remarked.
As the mainland itself came into view, Gordon noticed a lot of activity in what looked like a former vacant lot. There were vehicles and tents being set up; obviously the Guard was staking this out to be a command post of sorts.
"I think that's where we need to head," he said, directing Sarah's attention to the tents.
Minutes later, they were pulling up, their car sticking out among all the military vehicles. While Sarah was turning off the engine, the Commissioner was already out and looking for someone to direct him to whomever was in charge here. He would like to meet with the man, or woman in some cases, and see about ironing out how they were going to do this.
The initial response he received was a demand to know who he was, something that could be corrected once he introduced himself. After that, it was an order to follow and soon enough, he was brought to further into what was starting to look like a military encampment.
As his side, Sarah kept in step with him while the followed after the Guard soldier. The soldier looked young, but held that military swagger that seemed to come natural to anybody who happened to remain in the military long enough. They eventually came to a stop in front of a man who wore the same combat fatigues at the rest of the Guard, but unlike them, he had patches on his shoulders that revealed his status as an officer.
Based on Gordon's knowledge of ranks, this man had to be someone of high rank. Lieutenant didn't seem to be high enough based on the symbols on the shoulder patch. Was he a colonel? Higher than that?
"General, sir, Commissioner James Gordon of the Gotham City police is here to see you," their guide announced in a very loud voice, one that had Gordon almost wincing at the volume. There was a part of him that didn't like to be...announced. It was just a personal preference.
"That'll be all, soldier. I'll handle this," the general answered, dismissing their guide. The glasses-wearing commissioner took in a thin, handlebar mustache and the graying hair that peeked along the sides of the cap he wore. Four stars featured prominently on the front of the cap, just over its brim.
"And you are?" Gordon asked, holding out a hand for a shake.
The general accepted it, grasping it tightly. Maybe too tightly as the Commissioner could have sworn the blood circulation in his hand was being cut off. "General Wade Eiling. I have command here, Commissioner."
"I wasn't aware that the National Guard had generals," Gordon remarked, breaking off the handshake.
"There's a lot people don't know about that National Guard," Eiling replied. "But I doubt that's why you're here."
Gordon nodded. "I wanted to touch base and see about putting together a plan."
"Not necessary," Eiling replied. "We have everything under control here." Already, he was walking away, heading towards a table in which a map of the city was placed. There were markings on it that for the moment meant nothing to Gordon, even when he got a good look at it as he followed after the general.
"You haven't even heard what I have to say," Gordon pressed.
"Let me be quick about this. We don't have the time to be standing around and talking the day away," Eiling cut him off. "Your boys have been doing the best job they can under the circumstances and don't think we don't appreciate that. However, the Guard is in charge now and we have a way of handling problems like these."
"What way would that be?" Sarah spoke up.
"You are?" Eiling demanded instead.
"Lieutenant Sarah Gordon," the Commissioner introduced.
Eiling barely gave a nod, his sharp eyes boring into his wife. "I don't have the time right now to give you a full answer, Lieutenant. I will politely ask that you stand aside and do not get in my way. I have full discretion to handle this situation in whatever way I see fit, and I have my orders to do everything necessary to neutralize it."
"We're on the same side. We need to work together," Gordon cut in, hoping to avoid any back and forth.
"And I am the man in charge here, not you, Commissioner," Eiling retorted. "If you want to be helpful, stay out of my way and let me handle this."
"With all due respect," Gordon began again, only for Eiling to ignore him in favor of another soldier approaching him. The Commissioner trailed off in time to hear the soldier say, "The charges are all set up and ready, Sir."
"Tell the men to detonate as soon as they're clear," Eiling ordered, the soldier saluting and leaving the tent.
"Detonate what?" Gordon asked, feeling lost and not liking it for a moment. Eiling here didn't seem to care, or feel the need to inform the Commissioner about what the hell was going on. It was like the two of them had shown up in the middle of something. What that something was, he had no clue, but he wanted to know right now what it was.
"You might want to cover your ears," Eiling recommended, matching actions to words as he turned to the sight of the very bridge the GCPD officers had crossed minutes ago.
Without warning, there was a loud boom, prompting Gordon to slam his hands over his ears despite the fact that both were ringing loudly. Spinning around, he caught sight of the last traces of flames and a lot of black smoke enveloping the middle of the bridge. He wasn't sure, thanks to the ringing in his ears, but there could have been a low groan that occurred right before the middle of the bridge collapsed, falling into the river below it.
"What the hell!" Gordon demanded, feeling the pavement shake beneath his feet. The ringing in his ears were coming to an end and as he lowered his hands, he barely made out more booming sounds. Looking over his shoulder and further down the river, he saw another bridge covered in smoke seconds before it too collapsed. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"All intelligence confirms that Bane is on the island," Eiling stated, speaking as if he was talking about the weather. "We're quarantining him there and giving him no way off. With no way to bring in supplies, we'll starve him out while engaging in planned assaults to break him down."
"But there are people still over there! My men are still over there!" He emphasized his points with a wild arm gesture towards the island.
"I'm sorry, but I did not want to tip Bane off to my intentions. Your men and the people over there will have to weather this out," Eiling replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an operation to plan and request that you stand down. You're no longer in charge, so find yourself some lodgings and wait until we come back with the all clear."
"You can't do this!" the Commissioner protested.
"I already have and objections have been noted," the General stated before gesturing for a passing soldier to come over. "Private, escort these officers off the premises."
"Yes sir!" the soldier saluted before turning to the two law enforcement officers. "This way, Sir, Ma'am."
"What are you planning, Eiling!? You can't leave me out of this!" Gordon demanded, attempting to approach the General only for the soldier to block him off with his arm. "Tell me!"
Eiling, however, wasn't giving him the time of day. With a simple gesture, he non-verbally repeated his order for the two Gordons to be escorted away. All the while, the Commissioner could only helplessly demand information that he wasn't going to be given.
It was impossible not to hear the explosions. Unfortunately, Bane could not look into it himself. Thus, he sent out Bird to scout it out while he saw to another of his projects.
The location was a closed down building, wooden boards nailed against the windows in a vain attempt to protect the glass. Graffiti painted the outside walls, various gangs claiming it as their respective turfs. The gangs were no longer an issue, so the building itself was free to claim.
Inside, the structure had been hollowed out. Once, it had manufactured cups, or so he had been told; the assembly line equipment had been removed, either put away, or sold off. Nevertheless, it left the interior empty, dust and cobwebs attempting to fill the void left behind.
It was here that Tetch claimed would be the prime location to begin construction. Of the men he had loaned to this Mad Hatter, they were either cleaning the floors, or securing the premises. At one end of the building was a large circle drawn, next to it an assortment of blueprints and measuring tools. To Bane, this operation didn't look like much and that was why he was here. It was inspection time and he wanted to know of the progress.
Before he could get into that, though, Bird was calling in to report.
"Looks like the blew the bridges, Bane. I'm having Talon do a fly around, and it looks like all of them have been blown, minus that one that had the tree break through it. They must be getting desperate if that is what they're doing."
The loss of the bridges was concerning, but not a lethal blow. All that was taken was a land route for additional supplies and rations. However, supply lines had been entrusted to another and it would be to them to find a way around it.
"Oh, and this gets better. They have boats in the water and it looks like they're making a blockade with them," Bird continued to report.
A blockade at sea as well as the termination of the land routes? Another concern to add to the growing list of them.
"Keep me posted on any new developments," he ordered. Now he could direct his attention to other matters. "Tetch, status report."
Said man jumped where he stood, having taken his post nearby and had been busy fidgeting with his hat in his hands. Tetch was still intimidated by him—good. For his own sake, he needed to stay that way and not risk the masked man's wrath.
"Oh! S-status? Right, status. Ahem." The fiddling with the hat increased. "We've lucked out with the location. It has the perfect dimensions, affords a lot of space, and is reasonably private. As you can see, I've marked off where I am to begin construction on the device that you have commissioned me to build."
That explained the circle. As Tetch had spoken, they had moved closer to it, and even though all Bane saw was a circle, who knew what that little mind in that little man saw. Crouching down, Tetch scooped up some of the blueprints that had lain there and held them up to the masked man.
"This is my vision. Based on your needs as you have illuminated me of, as well as the ends this machine is to meet, I have planned out as much as I could in the available time you have given me and I do believe that this is what the end product shall appear as."
Bane, for the most part, began to tune Tetch out as he studied the blueprints. Contrary to what most would expect, these designs were very straightforward, dimensions were easily read, and it was not at all chaotic. That didn't mean Bane understood everything on them; while he had passing knowledge of engineering, it was not on the level that Tetch's was.
What he was looking at was so advanced, it easily destroyed whatever confidence he held in his own engineering abilities. Then again, there was only so much one could do reading only from books, but never truly applying the knowledge outside of a prison metal shop.
Bird had struck gold here with this new recruit.
Tetch had been rambling the whole time, so Bane had to interrupt him with a short, "When can you begin construction?"
"Immediately, my brawny friend." Rummaging his hand through the blueprints, the shorter man slipped out a regular, eight by eleven piece of white paper, a long list of words that described various materials that were needed. "These are what I need to not only start, but complete this little endeavor of ours—yours, excuse me."
Snatching the paper away, Bane made a show of reading the list, recognizing some of the items on the list, but not others. "I will get you these materials and you will begin work immediately."
"Of course, and if you don't mind me saying, it is a pleasure to work with someone who truly appreciate my vision—"
"For. You work for me. Not with me," Bane interrupted, focusing his gaze on the little man.
"Ye...Yes, of course," Tetch said, shrinking in on himself.
Folding the list and pocketing it, Bane turned away and began to make his way out of the building. He had calls to make, and even though the news of recent events were making him reevaluate his current strategies, they would not make him halt all operations.
He was far from finished with his conquest.
Curious. Ra's gazed at the rising clouds of smoke at the periphery of the city.
The thunderous blasts had captured his attention moments before the violent tremors had shaken his lair. His men had set out to ensure the building's stability while others automatically went out to investigate the source of the explosions. Ubu had positioned himself to the right and behind his master as a faithful manservant should.
Which left Ra's gazing out the window as he had done many times since his arrival in this room. Considering how strong the tremors were and the distance from which the smoke was rising, he estimated powerful explosives had been used, if not a large quantity. Taking into account there were multiple smoke clouds rising up into the sky, and perhaps this latest development was a combination of multiple explosions going off simultaneously.
"Father," Talia called out to him, causing the Eternal Man to tilted his head to a side to regard his daughter from the corner of his eye.
"Our scouts have returned," the beautiful woman informed him as she approached, coming to stand behind and off to his left. Turning to fully face her, Ra's gazed at her expectantly.
"The bridges to the city have been blown. Effectively, Gotham has been sealed off from the outside world."
This news did not faze the Demon's Head in the least. He had suspected such a thing had occurred and was confirmed with this news. However, he was certain this was not a move devised by the city officials. There had been no news of their flight from the city preceding this development. Like frightened rats, they would've scurried to safety long before the first charges had been placed.
"Who was behind this?" he questioned.
"Early reports indicate it was the U.S. Government. Their National Guard unit is positioned on the opposite bank of the river surrounding Gotham."
The National Guard? No, they were not the ones behind this. The National Guard was reserve duty for part-time warriors. Nowhere in their charter were they allowed to decimate infrastructure. No, there was something else behind this and they were using the National Guard as a cover for their actions.
Ra's could certainly appreciate the tactic. In this context, the U.S. National Guard had been appropriately deployed due to the events in Gotham being a domestic affair. Using full military might was not protocol in these situations, not to mention the perception of a federal entity using its military potentially against its own citizens. In dictatorships, these was no issue, but not when a government had painstakingly crafted a story of equal representation and protectorship.
It seemed there was a shadow following him.
That could be dealt with later. All this had done was expose their presence, one that Ra's could uproot at his leisure. None of them stood as great of a threat as Bane did currently. Once the masked man was terminated, then Ra's could see to it that his existence returned to the shadows, a threat upon hushed whispers.
"Master, does this not pose a problem?" Ubu asked, distress clear in his voice. "How will our support and supplies reach us?"
"As it always has, as it always shall," Ra's intoned. Considering the Demon's Fang had not been using Gotham's bridges to bring in their forces and supplies, the U.S. government's move hardly mattered to him.
However, the arrival of his special agent was most likely what Ubu was referring to. Once again, Ra's was not concerned. If something as trivial as a destroyed bridge was enough to stop his agent, then they were not worthy of serving the Demon's Head.
"But Master!" Ubu protested. "Surely the Americans will restrict the airspace to this city and form a blockade around the seat routes. We are effectively cut off!"
"I believe you sell our agent short, Ubu. You of all should know that I only request the presence of those of great skill and guile. Your doubt in my judgement is displeasing."
Immediately, Ubu took to one knee, prostrating himself. "Forgive me, Master. I only wished to convey the difficulty that would present itself to your chosen. I did not mean to offend."
"I would certainly hope not, Right Hand of the Demon. Many had been slain for lesser offenses."
Ra's could not help the smirk that appeared on his face at the sound of the new, feminine voice. Ubu's eyes widened before he shot up onto his feet and whipped around, coming face to face with his better.
There was a humored look on her Asian features, her face more visible considering her recently cut, dark hair. The last time Ra's had set his sights upon her, her hair had been much longer. It seemed she had felt a change was necessary.
With a grace the Eternal Man had not seen in no other, the woman glided around Ubu and came to stand before him, one of the few people Ra's would allow without the proper deference administered. She had earned the right to stand before him as an equal. The blood that metaphorically stained her hands was equal to his own in a much shorter time span.
The red material of her body suit, framed by a dark trench coat, matched her passion. "I was wondering how long it would be before you summoned me," she spoke with bemusement.
"Lady Shiva," Ra's returned her greeting, bowing his head with respect. "I hope I had not inconvenienced you."
"As a matter of fact, you had not. I am between jobs as it were."
Meaning she had yet to find that which she sought. "Then perhaps I can aid you in your quest." Without turning away from her, he held a hand out to gesture to the window behind him. "There is a man in this city calling himself Bane. He has proven to be a very capable opponent since my arrival in this city."
This news did not phase the Lady. "And you wish for me to dispose of him."
"Not quite. I desire to deliver the fatal stroke. What I require of you involves one of his latest schemes. Recently, Bane has begun recruiting those outside of his organization, namely the refuge this city has produced. Men that have challenged even the Detective are joining his side and I wish to send a message that no matter whom he recruits, none are greater than those of the Demon's Fang."
For a moment, Lady Shiva's eyes sharpened. "The Detective, you say? Intriguing."
Ra's internally smiled. He knew he had her full attention. "May I assume you will accept?"
"Do I not anyways?" The Lady took a step towards him, coming to stand mere inches away. "What am I expecting to face?"
"For now, a serial killer that has proven himself capable of striking down my assassins. Dispose of him however you see fit."
"I shall be taking some of your men with me."
There was a slight twitch to Ra's face, one that would have formed a frown had he not immediately stilled his features. Lady Shiva was known for working alone and never with others. This request was unusual.
However, she had never failed him, so he saw no harm in lending her the use of his men. "Take all you need," he told her. "I look forward to your success."
"And I look forward to your latest challenge." Lady Shiva then took a step back and rose her hands up, pressing the fist of one into the palm of the other. She then bowed, delivering her respect before she righted herself and turned to leave.
Ra's merely turned to gaze out the window again. "Now then, Bane, let's see how you respond to the Destroyer of Worlds."
"What the hell are those blokes thinkin'?! Are they completely bonkers?!"
Cobblepot was not in a pleasant mood this evening, and it all had to do with those godforsaken bridges. By now, he knew about Gotham being cut off from the rest of the world, and he had gotten word about the blockade being formed at sea. Someone was going to the extremes here, but the only takeaway from all this was that this was going to be bad for business.
He had marketed himself as someone who could get things for certain people and now that many of his smuggling routes were blocked off, that presented a huge problem for him. How the hell was he going to keep supplying his biggest customers with the toys they needed and in the quantities they wanted?
"Who's bright idea was this? Who possibly believes that this is goin' ta help in any way, shape, or form?" he continued to rant, swinging an arm out and cleaning off the surface of a large, mahogany-based desk. Papers, knickknacks, and other business-related devices fell to the floor with a loud clatter.
Naturally, when it rains, it pours. Ms. Lark happened to have a phone with her and her next words were not ones he wanted to hear. "Mr. Cobblepot, a Mr. Bane is on the line and wants to speak with you."
Would someone shoot him and put him out of his misery? The big brute was probably calling about the damn bridges, but damn it, there was nothing he could do about it! This was something that was out of his hands!
Still, like a proper businessman, he composed himself as much as he could while holding out a hand for the phone. It wouldn't do to keep a customer waiting while he threw a bit of a tantrum.
"What can I do for ya?" he spoke with as much of an upbeat tone as he could manage.
"I have a need for your contacts, Cobblepot," that deep, Hispanic voice went straight to the heart of the matter.
Of course, what else could it be. "There may be some...delays with gettin' you what ya need this time," the squat man said frankly. Best to be upfront, get the anger out of the way, then do the real business. Emotions could only get in the way of a long-lasting partnership. "Someone decided they wanted in on the big leagues and blew up every single bridge in the city."
"I am aware of current events. That does not change the nature of my call," Bane cut in. Obviously, this was a man that accepted no excuses. "I am in need of materials and am hiring you to see that my needs are met."
"Right. What do ya need this time? More guns? There's been—"
"Not weapons, Cobblepot. Building materials."
This not only caused the Penguin to pause, but also frown. This was certainly not what he was expecting. In fact, he had the expectation that he was only going to be used to smuggle some high-grade weaponry for the hulking bloke to cause chaos throughout Gotham. This, on the other hand, was something entirely different.
"Depends, what kind o'...building material do ya want?" Best to start expanding and diversifying while he could.
He was quick to grab a pen and start writing as much as he could, because Bane certainly wasn't waiting for him to be ready. More than once, he had to ask how one of these things were spelled, 'cause he had never heard of some of this stuff before. Why did Bane want it in the first place?
Eventually getting it all down, Cobblepot read over the mess, trying to figure out the method to the madness in it. He was going to have to do a lot of research too if he wanted to know where he could get it all and then get it into the city. With the bridges out and some armed seacraft blocking the port, it wasn't going to be easy. In fact, he made a comment about it.
"If you are serious about remaining as my supplier, you will find a way to get me what I want without whining about it. If you want my money, you will prove yourself worthy of it."
"Un...Understood," Cobblepot said grudgingly, wincing as the the call ended abruptly. Then he took his welling anger out on the phone by slamming it on his desk. "Who does he think I am? I can't work miracles!"
Lark, to her credit, remained silent, the smart minx. It allowed the monocle-wearing man time to think.
If he wanted to remain in the game, he was going to have to get creative. After all this work to get into a position where he had both ears of Gotham's newest criminal and the commissioner of the police force, he wasn't about to give it all up before he reached his endgame. There had to be a way to do this, there just had to be.
It took some time, time that required quite a bit of pacing, reevaluating his usual routes, weighing their merits, then going over what he himself had available. He had Lark go on and see what she could do with his contacts about getting Bane's order in the works; that way he could focus on the task of getting it in here.
Yes, the city proper was cut off and so was the port, but there had to be other ways either around, or through them. He just needed to find and exploit them like nobody's business.
There was no way he was going to lose this, no way in hell.
To FlackAttack: You were half-right, though I think I'd take your money