Move


Sometime in the night, the damp early winter rain had turned icy, coating the city in black ice that crusted against the window before dawn. Brigid watched it melt distractedly, sitting at the small hotel desk with several folders spread across it. She had found herself unable to stay asleep any longer; so she had gotten up hoping to work off some of her nervous energy. But she had been at this tiny desk for two hours, and hadn't accomplished a thing. Not a single folder had been opened, all she found herself able to do was stare out the window and drown in her thoughts as time slowly crept by.

She was due to meet with Dent in about an hour now, and grudgingly she forced herself up out of the chair to get ready. The taxi driver that picked her up complained relentlessly about the new traffic circle that routed traffic away from the ruined bank; which gave Brigid something to focus on. The alleys they passed were encrusted in a tiny layer of ice from the night before, surviving only because the light had not gotten the chance to burn it away.

As the cab pulled up outside the imposing city hall, Brigid paid the driver and quickly made her exit, hurrying quickly inside out of the cold. Once she was inside, she noticed this building had fully been updated, and had been maintained better than the police station. Vast marble floors and stone pillars rose up to the floor above. Checking in with the guards at the front, she absent mindedly rubbed her hands together to warm them while she waited for them to finish searching her bag for any weapons. Taking her briefcase back from the guard, she was struck by how familiar this was to her first check in at Arkham, leaving her with a dizzying sensation.

She found Dent's office after trudging up a few flights of stairs. In contrast to Gordon's modest drab office, Dent's was lined with pristine glass instead of cheap drywall, and the floor to ceiling windows were completely devoid of any smudges or fingerprints. Bookshelves were stuffed end to end with rainbow spines of law books, and boxes filled to the brim with files were stacked up haphazardly around the walls, leaving just enough space to be able to open the door. Rapping her knuckles quickly against the monogrammed door, she entered.

"Mr. Dent," Brigid announced once she stepped into the room, "My name is Brigid Grey, I'm a Special Agent on retention with the F.B.I,"

Dent, who was a tall blond man that looked as if his tan was left over from playing too much college football, shook her hand briskly with a P.R smile. She smiled back politely as they both took a seat.

"Great to finally meet you, we're all glad to have your help on this," Dent said, giving the standard reply. Brigid had learned that in these situations, there were certain decorums that were always observed; her introduction and his response were as bland as a cashier asking how your day was going. Pointless, but an unspoken requirement they both observed.

Dent took a deep breath, before briskly pulling a thick file out of a box to his left. "So, let's cut right to the chase. We've got a little time before the trial but I want to be sure we're all on the same team,"

Brigid's smile didn't waver. "Fine by me." She agreed. She had gotten the feeling that Dent had been prepared for her to fight him about the case, or being on trial. He obviously hasn't worked much with the bureau, then, she thought or else he would have known there's not a damn thing I can do about how he wants to run the show. However, she still wanted a clear idea of what charges they were hoping to charge Crane with.

"My direct supervisor had informed me that you had both discussed terrorism related charges, is that still the plan?"

"Yes, I think that's the surest way to get a conviction. We know Crane knows how to play the legal system, and I'm hoping that those laws are new enough to put his legal team on the defensive." Dent explained, speaking quickly, "And if you're wondering, it wasn't easy aligning with a judge he hasn't worked with before. The jury is going to be even harder to select, but that's a work in progress. G.C.P.D tells me that Crane hasn't said much since he's been incarcerated, but that's to be expected."

Brigid nodded, "I imagine finding someone that doesn't personally hate Crane, or want him dead, is going to be pretty difficult."

Dent's eyes seemed to sharpen, and he continued, "Crane's entire legal team is being backed by the mob,"

"I don't doubt it," Brigid said, frowning slightly, "But are you able to prove it?"

Mr. Dent's smile grew rather smug, starkly contrasting with his sobering, sharp eyes. "'Course not," He said, unconcerned, "But as of this morning, we were able to secure a key witness that's willing to testify against all the major crime families, and everyone on their payroll. In the past year, I've been able to root out where they were laundering their money; and if we can secure a conviction on them now before Crane's trial, my bet is that his legal team will drop like flies."

Brigid forced her polite smile to stay in place. He really is a fucking boyscout, she thought, trying to maintain her patience. While she had been undercover here last time; she had tried to maintain the pretense she was working towards reforming social services and programs that would give people a more attractive option than crime. Poverty rates, and incarceration rates for misdemeanors were extraordinarily high in Gotham. People by default didn't want to be criminals, they often are so bereft of ways to survive that they turn to organized crime as a way to make money. She was beginning to get the sense that Dent was of a very different mindset than hers, one that focused more on punishment and less on fixing the problem.

"With the evidence you have, I still doubt that any legal team would be able to get him out of this. I'm sure he'll try to go for the insanity plea." She said, biting back her thoughts. "Or his legal team will."

"I'm going to make damn sure that's not an option," He grinned confidently, "With Rachel's testimony, there isn't a snowball's chance in hell they'll wiggle out of this. But, it's best to be prepared. When you interview him, I want you to give me, or Rachel, a copy of the tapes."

Brigid's brows raised quizzically, "It sounds like you know Ms. Dawes well?"

Mr. Dent's smile was dazzlingly white, "We've been together for about eight months."

"Congratulations," She said, finding herself really meaning it. Internally she hoped Dent

would be level headed enough to deal with Rachel being on the stand. Working together was one thing, but seeing your girlfriend grilled by a team of lawyers in a criminal case was something else. She kept those thoughts to herself, instead focusing again on the task at hand. "Yeah, that should be fine. I'll have to get someone in the station to mark it and record it as evidence beforehand; just to make sure they don't shoot for the mistrial route,"

Dent to her surprise, frowned slightly, the mood darkening in the room briefly before the P.R grin appeared. "I have some records on suspicious cops I looked into when I was in I.A. Don't let just anyone hand them, there's still plenty of crooked cops that slipped through the cracks down there; and I'd rather not chance it."

"Of course," Brigid said, checking her watch and standing up. Seeing her check the time, Dent checked his as well before springing up and hurriedly gathering together files.

"Ah shit, I'm late- I'm due in court in five minutes. I'll tell Rachel to watch for your call, gotta run," He said, rushing to shake her hand before ushering her out of the office, locking it behind them.

"It'll probably be later this afternoon," Brigid called after Dent. She noticed, late or not, he had not shaken her hand in parting. So, he wasn't thrilled about me mentioning the evidence thing after all, she thought as she descended the stairs. Maybe he's not as much of a boy scout as he puts on, but as long as he gets the job done… her thoughts turned more melancholy.

Dent had almost been jumping out of his skin at the possibility of charging the mob. And that by itself, Brigid was sure, would not have bothered her. What did bother her, was the possibility Dent would cut a deal with Crane to catch a bigger fish; which was something the Department Head had warned her about. She reminded herself it was too early yet to be worrying about it, for the meantime she'd have to focus on getting Dr. Crane to talk.

What she hadn't told Dent, or Gordon, was that she wouldn't be recording the entire session. It was a gamble, but the 'higher ups' had made it crystal clear that they couldn't give a damn about Crane's local crime affiliations. In their minds, since Gotham had declined their help on numerous occasions, the city would sink or swim on its own. What they were interested in, and what had caused such a big stir last year, was the threat of outside organizations orchestrating a sophisticated- and nearly successful- attack. Gotham's near destruction was on a scale that to them, was tantamount to the sacking of Washington in 1815. Finding out what spies were in the country, and identifying the threat, was the highest priority.

And while they were unconcerned with Gotham's mobs or self destruction; they wouldn't sit idly by and allow it to be destroyed by outsiders. Hypocritical as it was, Brigid understood their need for discretion and information.


This time when she stepped into Gotham's police station, it was late afternoon and substantially less busy. Phones were ringing out from different desks, officers leaning over them talking in various volumes, but it was much less chaotic. There was a tiredness that clung to the ambient noise now, and Brigid's thoughts traced back to the bank robbery.

As she made her way to Lt. Gordon's office, she felt eyes on the back of her neck as she passed officers. It made her uneasy, but they took no more action than to nod, or offer a distracted half-wave in her direction as she walked.

Gordon was in the process of locking his door when she arrived. "Hey!" She called, getting his attention.

He adjusted his glasses slightly, "Afternoon, Ms. Grey. I was just coming down to meet you,"

Brigid smiled, "I was trying to get here a bit early. I think it's best we go over a few things," she looked pointedly at his office door and keys, "before we go into the interview."

Gordon let out a breath that bordered on a sigh, "You're the special agent," He said, unlocking the door and letting them in.

Sitting down and taking a deep breath of her own, Brigid started, "I know that not sharing all the information with you last year was a mistake.."

Gordon frowned slightly at that, but didn't interrupt as Brigid continued, "I know it doesn't mean much, but both you and I are going to have a very open line of communication. To be perfectly clear with you Gordon; I wasn't going to come back for this case." Her brows drew together as her voice grew more serious, "I need to have your word that what we're about to discuss does not leave this room."

"You of all people should know I just can't agree to something like that," Gordon eyed her sharply.

"Oh, but you'll do it for masked vigilantes?" Brigid scoffed, then composing herself waved her own comment away with a frown before Gordon could reply. "Harvey Dent is trying to use Crane to up the charges on the mobs that he was working for. You can imagine that doesn't sit well with any of the federal defense agencies- especially given that Crane brought in foreign enemies to orchestrate a brutal attack on a United States city."

Gordon nodded, but still continued to frown suspiciously. "And this has to do with keeping my mouth shut, how…?"

"I am not just here as an outside agent, lending assistance in getting a confession for your trial. My main objective is to get the names of the informats that were working with Crane. From what we learned last year, they are part of a larger group that has attacked other countries and other cities before…allegedly." Brigid paused, trying to gauge Gordon's reaction. "An attack of that magnitude on this city from outside forces, had they been allied with a specific country, would have normally been grounds to declare war. However, this group is very elusive and the only evidence we have of their existence at all are a handful of eye witness reports from Fear Night."

Gordon let out a humorless chuckle before giving out a sarcastic reply of his own. "And you're telling me the CIA and Homeland Security weren't able to find anything? What about Ducard's body?"

Brigid shook her head. "His body went missing in the aftermath. Wayne Industries turned over financial documents that were linked to Ducard, but every account that was listed was a dead end. Planes, hotel stays, money- there was nothing. Hell, it was like he didn't even exist. The only thing we have is Dr. Crane, and I can not let him slip away because of some plea deal Dent might dream up."

The corner of Gordon's mouth twitched. "And how can you be so sure he'll cut a deal? Look, I've known Dent awhile. Hell, I even had to deal with him investigating my department when he was still in Internal Affairs. I doubt he'll let Crane get off with anything less than life in prison."

Brigid frowned, trying to choose her next words carefully. "Our concern isn't that Crane will be released, it's where he'll be sentenced to prison; and the terms of that sentence. Our- my," she corrected herself, "fear is that Crane will try to manipulate things to get back into Arkham. I know you haven't forgotten what a disaster that was last year-?"

"I won't forget anytime soon, believe me." Gordon muttered. "But you're taking a long time to get to the point."

Brigid smiled reflexively, and shrugged. "Sorry, it's a bit of a bad habit. But it's crucial you understand why I'm asking you this. I need you to be the only one supervising the interrogations while I'm with Crane. I am going to do two recordings, one that will be logged with your records department here; and the other goes straight to my supervisor. Obviously, this only works if you can keep it to yourself." Then after a moment of thought she added, "It'd also be helpful if you could keep everything I just said to yourself as well."

Gordon leaned forward to support his weight on the desk, running a hand through his hair tiredly. "And you think Crane isn't going to get wise when you start switching tapes and changing the conversation?"

Brigid sighed, "Yeah, I know. I've already worked a system out for that. I'll have two tapes, and a secondary recorder in my jacket to keep him off the scent."

"Well, I can't say that I don't owe you one, but I suppose that goes both ways." Gordon said slowly weighing the options. "I'll do what you ask. I figure it'll only help us in the long run anyway."

Brigid found another frown creeping up alongside worry. "We can't be sure that they won't try another attack. And if the first recorded one was any indicator, I sure as hell don't want to see what they do next time."

"Well," Gordon said, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "There's no time like the present. We might as well go head down, now we've got that straight. Can I assume that you're going to want my friend left out of the loop too?"

Brigid stood up as well, smoothing the wrinkles out of her coat as she did, avoiding Gordon's eye. "I don't think it would be of use to him, do you? Dealing with the legality of what happens to criminals once they're actually caught isn't really his forte, right?"

Gordon, stepping out the door and locking it behind them gave a half hearted shrug. "I suppose you're right about that. He's got enough on his plate as it is,"

Raising a brow at hearing this, Brigid couldn't stop her curiosity. "What do you mean by that?"

Gordon shrugged again as they walked. "You know Gotham, plenty of crazy to go around. And there's always the mob, though Dent's done a good job at putting them on the ropes."

Thinking about it, she remembered the bank robbery from the day before. "Oh, you mean those clown people?"

"Yeah, they've been a bigger pain in the ass than we thought. The bank they robbed was full of the mob's money, and to make it worse we had planted marked bills to try and get them in on racketeering charges. All the money except those marked bills were taken," Gordon explained quietly as they descended the police department, working their way to the lower cells.

Something about that made Brigid uneasy, and it wasn't just the implication that someone in the police department had leaked that information. Though she felt more justified keeping things secret now she had confirmed that the department still had a few turncoats in their midst, something about the details of the robbery was off. The careful way it was planned, the fact that the dead were almost exclusively made up of the people that were robbing it. No witnesses, she thought to herself. Not your typical bank robbers, at the very least.

She pushed the thoughts away as they walked, gathering together her courage and sanity as they approached the cell. It was dark down here, and the lights flickered weakly making the floor seem more oppressive and claustrophobic than it ought to have. Gordon nodded to a steel door, waving the officer outside it away after they approached so that it was just them alone standing outside of Crane's cell.

"Ready when you are, special agent." Gordon said with a half smile. "I'm on the other side if you need me, as soon as I see you head to the door I'll be on the other side to unlock it."

Brigid returned his smile, "Wish me luck," she said, and watched him walk away, turning the corner to take his place at the double-sided window.