Gordan didn't know the half of what he was looking at. Destruction ran out for a mile, as a train supposedly derailed in the middle of the night. Bits of dirt and metal were flung all over the rails, and even a nearby power line was cut. Thankfully the destruction had occurred on Gotham's outskirts and hadn't reached any civilian areas yet, so the only true casualty was an unlucky cow. However, as Gordan looked at the sprawled-out train cars, he couldn't help but feel something was off.
For good reason, he realized, once he spotted Bullock walking toward him. The detective grumbled to himself while stamping out a cigarette in his hand.
"Couple guys found a hole on one of the train cars," Bullock told him calmly, the wind nearly blowing the detective's hat off, "CSI thinks somebody cut into the thing with a blow torch."
"A robbery then," Gordon muttered, with Bullock grumbling and pointing toward the train.
"A murder too," Bullock added, with Gordon watching as some men carried a body bag out of the train. The sight made Gordon sigh, as he tiredly took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. This just had to get better, Gordon mentally remarked.
"Any clues on what was taken?" Gordon inquired, with Bullock shaking his head no. At the same time his right hand held onto his fedora, the detective trying to keep it in place.
"None yet," Bullock replied, eventually taking his hat off, "Got alien crap scattered all over the place. Hard to tell what's here and what's not."
Somehow that seemed like an understatement. Dozens upon dozens of alien weapons were scattered around the area. Some had been broken beyond repair in the crash, while others seemed to have held up. It would be a nightmare to ensure everything was still accounted for. Still, it confused Gordon the more he looked around. He didn't know much about the aliens that attacked Metropolis, but he knew their equipment was an arms dealer's dream.
He'd seen news footage of the attack. The aliens had rifles powerful enough to blow holes through meter-thick concrete, tanks strong enough to topple buildings, and aircraft capable of burning city blocks. So to see weapons still scattered about, brought questions to his mind. Why were they left here? Any criminal worth his salt would have grabbed everything and booked it. Instead possibly billions of dollars worth of weapons was left lying about, in exchange for… what?
"See if we can get the train's manifest," Gordon soon ordered, quickly placing his glasses back on, "If the staff doesn't have one, call Wayne Enterprises."
Before Bullock could walk off Gordon snapped his fingers in realization, and the Commissioner added, "Ask for security footage too."
Quietly Bullock nodded and turned away. At the same time, Gordon began surveying the area again. Around him, officers continued to mingle about gathering up evidence, while paramedics tended to the train's staff. There were thankfully few people aboard when it crashed, but they were still looking at five dead. Gordon didn't even know how many people were injured. Of course, as Gordon thought this, his bespectacled eyes fell on a nearby ambulance.
Its rear doors were wide open, as paramedics lifted a wounded security guard into the train. Next to the vehicle, stood two detectives, one Ethan Bennett and Ellen Yin. Quickly Gordon walked to them, with both detectives noticing him nearly instantly. Both quietly greeted him, and Gordon did the same.
"The security guard able to answer some questions?" Gordon soon inquired, with Yin shaking her head no.
"Afraid not," Yin replied, right as the ambulance's door slammed shut behind them, "Paramedics say he has a concussion. We tried questioning him, but he couldn't give us any clear answers. I doubt he'll give us anything reliable for another few hours."
"Even then, Paramedics found him on the other side of the train. He was likely there when it derailed," Bennett quickly added, the man slowly crossing his arms. Though barely noticeable, one of his arms dripped an odd gray goo. A goo that quickly trickled back onto the detective.
"So we've got nothing," Gordon concluded, only for Yin to shake her head again.
"Wouldn't say nothing," Yin countered, before turning toward her colleague, "Bennett found this by the blast zone."
Before Gordon could even ask what she meant, Bennett held out his right palm. His hand shifted and seemed to melt, causing Gordon to gag internally. Before his disgust could mount, it was replaced with shock. A small plastic bag came out of Bennett's palm, displaying a few small splinters of wood. More specifically, wood with Joker's face painted on. The madman's wide grin taunted Gordon silently, causing him to glare at the wood.
"I should have known," Gordon angrily muttered, while carefully grabbing the plastic bag. He knew this was too good to be true.
"If we're right, then the blast was caused by a giant jack-in-the-box," Bennett added before a voice yelled out over him. Turning Gordon spotted a police officer quickly rushing toward them, urgency present on his face.
"Commissioner!" the officer exclaimed, "We just got word from dispatch! Clowns were spotted kidnapping a woman near Gotham Heights!"
Damn it, Gordon thought to himself, his fists clenching tightly at the news. Just what was that clown up to?
Sleep was normally a luxury Bruce couldn't afford. Night was when most crimes occurred, it was a statistical fact plain and simple. But last night, seemed calm. It was Tim's birthday, crime was down, Alfred had pestered him to sleep, and the other orphans begged him to stay. And Bruce agreed if only to oblige the orphan's wishes. Though even with that excuse, he couldn't explain why, things simply felt… different here. It felt calming in a way. So for this one night, he'd slept on the small orphanage's living room couch.
That, Bruce tiredly thought, was a mistake. He'd always enjoy spending time with Tim and the others. But as he woke up to the sound of the news playing on the TV, he couldn't help but shoot up from the couch.
"-has confirmed the Joker was responsible for the train's derailment. As of yet, no leads have been found on the criminal's location or his current motives. With this, police Commissioner James Gordon has requested that all Gothamites should be on the lookout for any suspicious activity," Summer Gleeson, the news anchor for GNN stated calmly. It earned a grumble from Bruce as he watched the TV, before quickly getting up.
"A chaotic night it would seem," Alfred commented, the butler's voice coming from the nearby kitchen. There Bruce glanced over, to spot the old man's head peeking around a corner.
"Figures this happens the day I get back," Bruce replies tiredly while standing up from the couch and stretching. The action brought a small aching pain from improperly healed wounds. But Bruce ignored it quietly. Walking into the kitchen he scratched his chin, before turning to look around the room. Plastered on the microwave's clock, he found it to be seven AM. At the same time, Alfred busied himself, cooking up breakfast.
On a small skillet, he fried some eggs and bacon, while a toaster next to him worked on two slices of bread. Calmly the elderly man stopped cooking for a second, to pass Bruce a plate with an egg sandwich.
"Ms. Kyle left a motorcycle for you outside," Alfred told him, the man watching as Bruce grabbed the sandwich, "I suspect you'll be needing it for tonight's affairs."
Considering she took the car, yes, yes he would. Quickly digging into the egg sandwich, Bruce soon spotted the keys resting on the countertop. Reaching out he grabbed them and placed them in his pocket. With them in hand, he turned toward the kitchen's coffee maker. Quietly Bruce walked around Alfred toward the machine and grabbed the filled pot.
"That is of course, if you don't intend on leaving so soon," Alfred commented, causing Bruce to slightly glance toward him.
"The sooner I get to finding Joker, the better," Bruce replied, with Alfred giving him a mock sigh.
"A shame then," Alfred replied, the butler placing bits of bacon onto a dozen plates, "After all, I do recall Tim asking you for boxing lessons again."
As Alfred said this, Bruce slowly reached toward a cupboard above him and pulled out a thermos. This hadn't been the first time Tim had asked. It became something of a bonding activity for the two of them. It all started a few years ago. Tim had come up against some bullies in school and got into a few fights. From what Bruce learned, Tim was attempting to protect some classmates.
Bruce couldn't help but feel proud of him. However, that pride was mixed, as Tim ended up being suspended and earning a broken nose. So, in exchange, they'd come to a deal. The next time Tim saw someone being bullied, he'd go tell his teachers. When that didn't work, Bruce would teach him to box. It earned the kid a lot more suspensions, but bullying seemed to happen less with him around.
Yet with this thought, Bruce mentally braced himself, knowing what Alfred was going to say next.
"I also recall you agreeing last night," Alfred pointed out, causing Bruce to pause. The billionaire stayed quiet for a moment, internally sighing as he thought to prospect over. He looked over the thermos of coffee silently, mentally sighing.
"It'll have to wait," Bruce muttered tiredly, the man bringing a hand to his brow. The image of Tim disappointed flashed through Bruce's mind, but he shook it away. He didn't like going back on his kids' promises, but it had to be done this time. Alfred didn't agree though, the butler making his displeasure known, as the elderly man calmly glared at Bruce. It was a quiet fury Bruce had learned to fear.
Even now he felt a shiver go up his spine, as he faced Alfred again.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Bruce told him, with Alfred continuing to glare. Eventually, the butler's fury broke, the man sighing again and waving Bruce off.
"I'll tell them you had an emergency business meeting," Alfred muttered, with Bruce nodding back to him thankfully. Considering the news, that business meeting might happen as well. Bruce walked to the front door then, opened it as quietly as possible, and stepped outside. There he spotted the motorcycle Selina left; a purple BMW R nineT. Sitting on top, was a helmet for the bike. Taking one last bite of his sandwich, Bruce grabbed the helmet and stuck it on.
Revving the bike up, Bruce sped off down the street. As he drove Bruce couldn't help but look around the city's streets. As it stood, the Wayne Family Orphanage was located in Gotham Heights, an upper-middle-class neighborhood. So the area was comparably much cleaner to the usual Gotham streets. This became ever more prevalent as he left the neighborhood. Driving by Bruce passed nothing but garbage for a solid minute.
The sidewalks were covered in grime and dirt or were in varying states of disrepair. Buildings were abandoned, their windows boarded up and their structure falling apart. And then there were the homeless. An unfortunately common sight, Bruce thought. He passed by dozens of encampments on the streets. Small tent cities lined Gotham's alleys, sidewalks, and anywhere else the homeless could find shelter.
Sometimes it was a single man trying to find work but down on his luck. Other times it was an entire family kicked out of their home. It was an addict struggling to get their life back together, an ex-con turning a new leaf, a veteran coming back home. The sight was always disheartening to Bruce. He'd dedicated billions to helping them, yet it never was enough. It quickly soured Bruce's mood, especially as he stopped at a red light.
Next to him was a small electronics store, with some TVs sitting on display. A few were busy broadcasting the news while others played an ad. One Bruce quietly despised.
"-luxury condos, perfect for you and your family! Settle down and buy your own piece of heaven today! To buy now, just call 555-290-3562 or visit !" The TV played, displaying a dozen photos of some large building—a building Bruce knew all too well. It used to be the Monarch Theater. The TV switched from the photos to a video clip, then displayed a large man with reddish-brown hair.
"A deal this good won't come from anywhere else!" Roland Daggett proclaimed, the man baring a large fake smile, and holding a thumbs up. For an added effect the billionaire CEO winked at the camera, while music played him out. To think he was still out free, Bruce mentally remarked. The reason Monarch Theater had been destroyed in the first place, was due to Daggett's actions.
Years ago Daggett had tried buying up most of Parks Row, Crime Alley included. All to as, he put it, "improve" the area by pushing out the old tenants and tearing the place down. Of course, not everyone wanted to or could afford to leave. Daggett, not being one to back down, took a secondary approach. If the people of Parks Row wouldn't leave, then they would burn. He hired Firefly and a handful of thugs to set the area ablaze.
Once everything was nothing but ash, Daggett planned to swoop in and buy everything. It had been a nightmare for Bruce to deal with, and the GCFD spent an entire night putting the flames out. Firefly was stopped, but Daggett was never charged, even with the pyromaniac's confession. Daggett was only stopped when Bruce beat him to the punch and bought up most of Parks Row.
Though not before Daggett bought Monarch Theater. The memory only served to make Bruce more annoyed. Every TV at the store switched to the news while Bruce watched the street lights.
"In more international news, an eight-point two magnitude earthquake struck Tokyo today, devastating hundreds," the news anchor stated, switching over footage of the city, "Though news is still coming in, it has been reported that Superman has arrived on the scene, aiding local rescue workers."
Right as the anchor uttered those last words, the light turned green. Quickly Bruce sped up again, racing through the streets. When he finally reached the manor, Bruce forced himself to stifle a yawn. He'd only just gotten home, but he knew it was going to be a long few hours.
Looking up at the now night sky, Batman could see the familiar glow of the bat signal. Its illuminated logo danced across the sky, for all of Gotham to see. A giant bat lighting up the sky. And though it served as a symbol of fear for the city's criminals, Batman could spot some kids looking at the sky and smiling. Perched on a building's rooftop across the GCPD headquarters, Batman looked down at the city street, hearing the kids excitedly talk.
"You think we'll see him tonight?" a young boy asked, a few adults nearby complaining about how loud he was. He didn't seem able to contain his excitement, the small child jumping in place.
"Maybe," another boy replied, a tad bit quieter than his friend, "Wasn't he in Metropolis though?"
"Well… maybe he's back!" a girl exclaimed, causing the first boy to become somehow more excited before he gasped in a seeming realization.
"My apartment can see the police station's roof! He might be up there!" the boy told his friends, with all their faces lighting up. Quickly they all then ran off, into the building. It brought Batman some small joy, knowing his symbol brought them some hope. But of course, he couldn't linger on that feeling. Moving somewhat swiftly Batman jumped off the building's roof. His cape extended out, allowing him to glide gracefully through the air.
Coming close to the police headquarters roof, Batman soon landed. There he began walking forward, his footsteps silent as he moved. At the same time, his cape was wrapped around him like a cloak, its ends draping down near the floor. Looking around the roof, Batman spotted Gordon standing near the bat signal. Wordlessly the Commissioner tapped a pack of nicotine gum in his palm. Next to him stood Renee Montoya, the detective busily going through a large set of files.
"Commissioner," Batman greeted calmly, though it still seemed to spook Gordon somewhat. Gordon tried his best to hide his momentary fear, as he turned around. The moment he spotted Batman though, his face formed a small smile.
"Batman," Gordon replied, turning around to face him fully, "Glad to have you back."
Batman quietly nodded in response, watching as Montoya gave him a quick wave.
"I assume you've seen the news?" Gordon inquired, with Batman again nodding.
"Then we'll make this quick," Gordon commented, the man turning toward Montoya slightly. Calmly the detective cleared her throat, before holding out the files for Batman.
"As you may already know, at eleven o'clock last night, the Joker's gang derailed a Wayne Enterprises train," Montoya explained, while Batman slowly grabbed the documents from her, "Four people died in the crash, while another was shot point blank."
"A robbery?" Batman inquired, glancing through the file he'd been given. Most of it was information he already learned on his own. The GCPD did call him for the train's manifest after all. Still, he played along, finding a few pieces of evidence he didn't have before.
"Most likely," Gordon replied, before popping some gum into his mouth, "The most surprising thing though, is that they only stole one item."
The words instantly confused Batman. The train was filled to the brim with weapons, some more destructive than anything the Joker had available. Yet they were simply left behind? Must have been a smash-and-grab mission, Batman reasoned. They were to get in, grab something, and get out as fast as possible. But the question there, is how did they know what to grab? Did they just grab a random item, or was it planned?
If it was planned… then they knew what was on the train. No one was supposed to know, except those transporting the cargo. That painted a worrying picture for Batman, especially as Gordon kept talking.
"Specifically, something labeled MB. Wayne Tech won't tell us what it is though. Says the Justice League has them sworn to secrecy," Gordon explained, "That part leaves me worried. The entire area surrounding the field was littered with ordinance. Yet the Joker only took this-"
"It's a Mother Box," Batman interrupted, his mind lingering on Gordon's words. The commissioner meanwhile blinked confused for a second, before raising his brow.
"What?" Gordon asked confused, not noticing the invisible dread Batman held.
"It was an alien device captured during the battle for Metropolis," Batman explained, his tone calm but worryingly serious.
"During the invasion, they were used to ferry in Darkseid's troops," Batman added, which caused Gordon to groan.
"In other words, the Joker has the metaphorical backdoor to hell," Gordon muttered, before taking off his glasses to rub his eyes.
"Worse," Batman corrected, causing Gordon and Montoya to freeze as he explained, "Each box is dangerously powerful. A single one almost wiped out Metropolis."
Both the Commissioner and the detective went quiet, as the realization hit them.
"...You mean to tell me, Joker has his hands on a WMD?" Gordon asked, his eyes wide open in shock. Batman said nothing, which only served as a confirmation to Gordon. Truthfully though, calling a Mother Box a WMD was an understatement. A single box could open Boom Tubes, affect gravity, manipulate energy, revive the dead, take over non-sentient machines, and change matter itself. It was not merely a WMD, it was a sentient supercomputer with the ability to tear apart a planet.
The League already had a few of these boxes locked up in the Watchtower, for this very reason. The gravity of everything instantly began weighing down on Gordon, the man unintentionally stepping back.
"I…I need to call the mayor," Gordon muttered, moving to grab his phone, "See if we can get an evacuation ready just in case."
"We have time," Batman told him, hoping to provide him some ease, "Unless Joker knows how the Mother Box works, he won't be doing anything. That gives us a few days to find him."
"No, it doesn't. A few hours after the train robbery, one Dr. Evelyn Bryce was kidnapped," Montoya quickly piped up, "Reportedly she specialized in researching alien technology."
That revelation caused Batman to turn toward Montoya. He recognized the name she'd spoken. Evelyn Bryce was a Wayne Tech employee. Twice Wayne Tech had been involved with the Joker's scheme. But why? He knew where the train was going to be. He knew what was on the train. He knew Wayne Tech had the very specialist he would need on hand. Mentally Batman swore to himself, as he slowly pieced things together.
Wayne Enterprises had a mole. Someone had to of told Joker the train's location. But that was something he'd have to figure out later.
"Do we have any other leads?" Batman asked, with Montoya shaking her head in response.
"As of right now, no," Montoya replied, causing Batman to momentarily grumble. Looking over the evidence again, he could see Joker had the pieces necessary for one of his plans. Everything the Joker needed was already assembled. Yet he hadn't done anything with it. No televised bomb threat, or some hostage situation. And Joker wasn't the kind of person to use the Mother Box quietly.
When he makes his move, everyone hears about it. And if everyone was going to hear about it, then Joker was going to put on a show.
"If the Joker already has a specialist on hand and hasn't acted yet, then he's looking for something else," Batman commented while watching Gordon slowly bring a hand to his chin.
"Are there any other Wayne Tech shipments coming in?" Gordon asked, turning toward Montoya.
"No sir," the detective replied, while Gordon ran a hand through his hair. He stopped then, just for a second, before walking toward Batman. Wordlessly Batman passed him the case file, and Gordon looked over it quietly. Eventually, the Commissioner came to the same conclusion Batman did.
"You think he's building something?" Gordon inquired, slowly looking toward Batman. It was the only thing Batman had to go off of, but it wasn't a far-off guess. Every time the Joker did anything, he went to the extreme. Which meant he got creative. The clown had built a rickety wooden death coaster inside Gotham General, complete with buzz saws and electric chairs. He'd built dunk tanks filled with acid at the Lex Corp's Gotham branch.
He'd stolen an animatronic t-rex, built another two, and had them fight in the city streets. Be it for his main plan, or for some side decoration, the Joker built lots of things.
"Only one way to be sure," Batman replied, with Gordon slowly nodding.
"Montoya," Gordon commented, turning toward the detective. With a simple nod, Montoya pulled out her radio. After a few seconds, she began talking into the device. For a few minutes, she went back and forth with some other person. It took some time, so Batman began looking around the rooftop. Which slowly made him remember something. Taking a slow glance, Batman began looking over a nearby apartment building.
After two or three glances, he found a lone window with three faces pressing into the glass. Quietly Batman simply watched the three kids from before, noticing he saw them. And with his cowl's detective vision, he could see all three of them freak out. It always felt odd to Batman, that he'd become a symbol of hope for Gotham. Something more than an urban legend.
It did make him… happy, though. He set out to scare criminals, not children. Soon one of the kids began waving at him, and quietly, Batman waved back. It set the kids off again as they freaked out in the apartment. By this point Montoya turned back toward him and Gordon, pulling the radio away from her ear.
"Got a ten-ten in progress down near the Bowery. On Spooner's Street, Paulio's Construction and Materials. Two officers were sent to respond. Neither has reported back," Montoya told them, with Gordon turning toward Batman.
"No better place to check out," Gordon commented, with Batman nodding.
"Montoya, tell SWAT to get ready," Gordon quickly ordered, turning back toward Montoya. The detective nodded and got ready to run off. With a momentary sigh, Gordon tossed his nicotine gum packet into the air and caught it. There he again turned toward Batman.
"You get down there, see if you can find anything… useful…" Gordon began to say, before finding Batman was gone. It caused Montoya to snicker somewhat, while Gordon quietly grumbled.
"One of these days, Montoya, I swear," Gordon muttered, while Montoya continued to laugh.
It hadn't taken long for Batman to reach Spooner's Street. Only a few minutes of gliding through the city. When he arrived, he found the building in question. As it stood, Paulio's Construction and Materials was housed in a small warehouse. The entire place looked dilapidated and seemed ready to fall apart at a moment's notice. The company's logo on the side of the building was shoddily painted over another.
But the biggest thing that stuck out to Batman, was the smashed-up police car he spotted. He didn't find it on the street, instead, the car had been pushed into a back alley, likely to temporarily hide it from any suspicious eyes. Landing next to the car quietly, Batman took a small glance into the driver's seat. He grimaced a second later, his eyes passing over the wide grins the car's officers held.
Carefully Batman reached through the car's shattered window and closed one of the officer's eyes. He quickly did the same for the second officer, before bringing a hand to his cowl. It took only a second before his cowl's communicator contacted Gordon.
"Jim, I've found your officers," Batman told him, before he stepped away from the car, "They're dead."
"Damn it," Jim muttered on the other end, the commissioner tiredly rubbing his eyes, "What killed them?"
"Joker toxin," Batman quickly replied, hearing Gordon move about through the comm.
"We were right then," Gordon commented before some officer shouted something out.
"SWAT's heading out now, and a dozen officers are already heading your way," Gordon soon told him, "Find out what you can. We'll be there soon."
Wordlessly Batman hung up. Looking up at the warehouse's roof, he quickly drew and fired his grappling hook. In seconds the hook lodged itself into the building, and Batman felt himself shoot off into the air. Once his feet touched the ground, Batman quietly surveyed the rooftop. There he spotted a large skylight, sprawling across the roof. Slowly Batman began to approach it, before again reaching toward his cowl. Again his communicator switched on, only to contact a different Gordon.
"Oracle?" Batman inquired, waiting for her response.
"Reading you loud and clear B," Barbara soon replied, her words mixed with the clicking of a keyboard, "What's up?"
"I need you to access Paulio's Construction and Materials security systems," Batman quickly relayed, before peering through the skylight.
"That's all? Huh, I was hoping for something more difficult tonight," Barbara replied calmly before her comm went quiet. As Batman looked down into the warehouse, the light of the moon above provided some small illumination. For whatever reason all the lights in the warehouse were shut off. And every few seconds Batman would see the shine of a flashlight flicker through the room. This mattered little though, as Batman calmly switched his cowl's lenses to Detective Mode.
Now the room below was lit up in a darkish blue haze. Crowded near the warehouse's loading dock, were six men. Scattered around them were at least a dozen dead bodies, who Batman assumed were the warehouse's employees. Of course, as Batman looked closer, he could see none of the thugs were doing anything. They stood around, seeming to talk amongst each other.
"Done. You should have access to their cameras now," Barbra eventually replied, with Batman quickly pulling it up to his cowl. Most of the cameras were broken in some way, only giving static. But one was thankfully close enough to hear the thugs.
"Why the hell are we still waiting around? You said Jimmy was gonna be here in five minutes," one of the thugs muttered, slowly walking around the open room.
"Look, he's probably just stuck in traffic," another reasoned while playing rock-paper-scissors with another man, only to groan once he lost.
"Well, he better be here soon! I swear this… just…" a third thug exclaimed, looking nervously around the room.
"What, cat got your tongue?" the second thug mocked, earning some snickers from the others. It caused the third thug to groan annoyed though, with the man quickly motioning to the area around them.
"I'm just sick of this place!" the third thug exclaimed, before staring back into the darkness, "Can't we turn some lights on?! I feel like Batman's gonna jump outta the shadows at any minute."
"Boss said he wanted this to be kept quiet. And besides, the Bat's still in Metropolis. You've got nothing to worry about," a fourth thug reasoned, the others soon nodding in agreement. It seemed to calm the third guy down, as he took some loud deep breaths.
"Yeah… yeah you're right," the third man replied.
"Of course I'm right. Can you ever remember a time I wasn't?" the fourth guy inquired before Batman switched to older footage. Through the lenses of his cowl, Batman saw what happened in the last hour. The lights in the warehouse were shut off, and the Joker's gang broke in quietly. They killed the guards, before looting whatever materials they needed. Bricks, mortar, wood, nails, sheet metal, and lots of green paint.
It was loaded into three separate unmarked trucks. The loud noise of everything being moved attracted someone's attention, and the GCPD sent officers to investigate. They like the guards were killed, and the Joker's men pushed the car into the alley. Once everything loaded up each truck left. All right before Batman arrived. It annoyed Batman, to think he'd arrived too late. But he couldn't linger on this.
Instead, he looked back down at the crowd of thugs waiting for pick-up.
"Oracle, three trucks left the warehouse before I arrived," Batman quickly relayed, again hearing the clicking of a keyboard.
"Got it, I'll follow them on traffic cams," Oracle replied, leaving Batman in a momentary silence. Through this silence, Batman slowly began thinking up a plan. The warehouse was dark, so the clowns inside likely wouldn't see him. However, though the warehouse was crawling with shelves and hiding spots, the thugs were crowded in a large open area. Any approach would be seen.
This wasn't a massive problem, as most of them were unarmed, except for a single man who had a large baseball bat. But it did make this tricky. That was until Batman remembered the skylight he was looking through. When it came to terrifying criminals, some theatrics were necessary. His plan formed, and Batman quickly took a few steps back from the skylight. With a small deep breath, he charged forward and jumped.
As he fell back down he smashed through the skylight easily. Bits of glass broke off and fell to the ground. Below him, Batman could see every clowns' eyes turn straight toward him. Falling into the room Batman swung his cape out like a pair of bat wings. Each thug's eyes widened instantly. A few shook and took a step back before Batman heard those unmistakable words.
"It's the Bat!" a clown shouted while Batman glided into the room. Still, momentarily in the air, Batman glide-kicked the clown who yelled and rolled onto the ground. For good measure, Batman quickly grabbed the man's head and slammed him into the ground. The loud crack of his nose breaking signaled the first clown was out. Almost instantly every thug ran toward him. The first thug to reach Batman swung his fist forward.
Before the guy could react, Batman grabbed his arm and twisted it in the other direction. The thug tried to fight back, only for Batman to slug him in the stomach, causing him to keel over. Trying to stand up, the clown didn't have time to react before Bruce uppercutted him in the jaw. Not done though, Burce turned with the thug's arm still in hand and threw the man at his compatriots.
He slammed into two of them, knocking all of them off their feet. Wasting no time, Batman turned away from the three, to their other two friends. The one with the bat, Clown One, was still charging toward him, while his friend Clown Two ran alongside him. Both reached him at the same time, yet Batman was the first to strike. Batman quickly kicked Clown Two in the chest, while ducking from Clown One's swing.
Clown Two stumbled back, giving Batman time to turn and slug Clown One across the face. As this happened Clown Two forced himself forward, ready to kick Batman. However, Batman spotting this, grabbed the man's leg and forced it upwards. The awkward angle nearly forced the man off his feet, before Batman swung him around to the floor. Ducking another swing from Clown One, Batman quickly wrestled around Clown Two.
In seconds Batman twisted Clown Two's leg around and snapped it like a twig. The sound of bone breaking echoed in the room, causing Clown One to back up slightly. At the same time, Clown's Three and Four had gotten back up.
"O-oh shit!" Clown Three yelled, taking a few steps back at the same time.
"Stop standing around, and kill him already!" Clown Four lambasted, quickly running toward Batman again. Ducking another swing from Clown One, Batman quickly tripped the thug's legs. Not wasting more time, Batman grabbed his legs as he fell and wrapped a cable around them. In a flash, he drew his grapple gun and shot it into the roof. Moments later Clown One was dragged to the ceiling. The thug screamed terrified as he flew up, his body now dangling from the ceiling.
By this time Clowns Three and Four had gotten close enough to hit him. Of course, Batman only knew this, when Clown Four yelled, "Gonna peel that mask off your corpse freak!"
It gave Batman ample warning, as he jumped and flipped over Clown Four's punch. As he dropped back down Batman grabbed Clown Four's shirt. Before the thug could turn to fight back, Batman leaned forward and chucked him across the room. Clown Three, seeing his buddy get flung so easily, took an unconscious step back. The moment of weakness proved to be his downfall.
He blinked, and Batman was suddenly in front of him. With so little time to react, Clown Three didn't have time to hold up his hands, before Batman threw a right hook. The clown stumbled back, and Batman threw a left hook, before kicking the man in the face. In seconds, the clown dropped to the floor unconscious, a lone tooth falling out of his mouth. With him dealt with, Batman turned back toward Clown Four.
The Clown tried forcing himself back onto his feet. Yet it mattered little. Now noticing all his compatriots unconscious, the clown was helpless to stop Batman from charging him. The man fell back to the ground, trying to flee. Only to be stopped when Batman's boot stood on his head. His hands wrapped around Batman's sole, desperately trying to force him off. Though he wore a mask covering his face, Batman could see the man's fear.
"Joker, where is he?" Batman demanded, pressing his boot into the man's face.
"S-screw you!" the clown replied, slamming his fist into Batman's shoe. It did little more than annoy Batman.
"Wrong answer," Batman stated, slowly pushing his foot down harder. Desperately the man clawed at his foot trying to push it back up.
"W-wait! Wait!" the clown pleaded, and Batman let up the pressure.
"You and you're friends killed a dozen men today," Batman told him, while slowly leaning forward, "As it stands, they'll put you away for years-"
"L-like hell they will!" the thug interrupted, again punching Batman's foot, "Boss has got plans for ya Batman! And this t-time, this time you'll die!"
Batman grumbled quietly in response, before again pushing his foot down.
"Perhaps I wasn't being clear enough," Batman warned, pushing his foot further to the ground, "They'll put you away for years. But if you don't talk, the first three will be spent eating from a tube."
The clown waited a moment to respond, still struggling against Batman's foot. At the same time, sirens rang outside the warehouse, and slowly got closer by the minute. With a cough, the clown stopped struggling as Batman looked down at him.
"Beats death, freak," the clown muttered, with Batman mentally sighing. Knowing he wasn't going to get him to talk, Batman removed his foot from the clown's face and slugged him in the nose. With all the clowns unconscious, the doors to the warehouse were soon broken down. SWAT charged into the room, fanning out quickly to secure the area.
"Police! Hands where we can… see… them…" one officer yelled, before slowly going quiet. Others followed behind him, only for all of them to stop once they spotted Batman. Along with the six unconscious clowns littering the room. Each officer quickly dropped their guard then, though some looked rather unhappy.
"Damn it, every time," one officer muttered moving out to grab an unconscious clown.
"Never get to see any action," another grumbled, helping another officer cut down the thug hanging from the ceiling. Batman said nothing to the SWAT officers. Though the organization was monumentally better than before, now that Branden was off the force, GCPD SWAT was always a bit too gung-ho for his liking. That said, he didn't miss the occasional awed glance some of the younger rookie officers were giving him.
Slowly Batman began surveying the room, while SWAT left him to investigate. He looked over the unconscious thug's possessions, hoping to find some shred of a clue. Eventually, Gordon arrived alongside some other detectives, one being Montoya. As Batman looked over the floor with his detective vision, Gordon walked up next to him with Montoya doing the same.
"Anything here?" Gordon asked, with Batman shaking his head.
"No," Batman replied, causing Gordon to grumble, "By the time I got here, most of Joker's had already left."
"Of course. Things just couldn't be simple," Gordon muttered, taking a moment to rub his brow.
"Is it ever simple with Joker?" Montoya rhetorically asked, with Gordon quietly shaking his head no.
"That said, security cameras showed three unmarked trucks leaving an hour ago," Batman quickly added, with Gordon slowly nodding in response. At the same time, Batman finally spotted something with detective vision. It had been hard to see before, but a keycard had been flung under one of the warehouse's shelves. Batman considered it to just be a lost item until he pulled it out from under the shelf.
Wordlessly he turned and held it out to Gordon and Montoya. The keycard was a rather simple hotel room key. Stamped onto the card, was the Gotham Royal Hotel's logo. To anyone else, this may have seemed like nothing. But not to Batman, and definitely not to Gordon. As the Joker's first major scheme and the Batman's first true public appearance, had taken place on Christmas Eve from that very hotel.
And painted every so carefully onto the card, was a wide green smile.