#16: Masks, Pt 4 (Burchette / Villalobos)

Slade couldn’t help but smirk inside his mask. It wasn’t about taking out the guy hooked up to the machines. That was a piece of cake. No, it was the defeat of his former student and the junior bat scouts that had been the fun part of this assignment. It was almost worth giving the money back for… almost.

“It’s time for your shots,” he said as he walked into the hospital room of James Gordon, noticing the machine’s and monitors hooked up to Gotham’s newest police commissioner.

“I’m actually impressed, you’ve got some friends in high places, pal. Unfortunately you’ve also got enemies that are up there too.”

He walked over to the unconscious man and put his gun up to the new commissioner’s forehead. “And this time, it looks like the enemies win.”

The sound of the gun echoed through out the room and down the hall, where a barely conscious Batman was struggling to get up. His head was swimming, his head was pounding, and at the moment he couldn’t even see who had walked by him so quickly.

In the room, Deathstroke had staggered back at the bullet that came from the gun that had been shoved right into his gut, tore through his body armor and his body. He looked up to see a very wide awake James Gordon looking back at him, a revolver in his right hand, shaking but still pointed at him.

“Son of a… I didn’t see that one coming,” Slade mumbled.

He brought his gun up again, but there was another shot from another gun as the second bullet tore into the side of his mask and clipped off a piece of his ear.

Deathstroke reeled from the impact and spun around to find a rather frumpy looking man in a dirty trench coat and fedora standing in the doorway, his revolver still smoking.

Jim Gordon couldn’t speak, the tube going down his throat made that impossible, but his eyes conveyed all that was needed. He was barely conscious, but he was willing to go the distance.

Bullock spoke, “Surrender your weapons. You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Commissioner James Gordon.”

“I don’t think so,” Slade replied as he jumped forward, right into Harvey, drawing his sword at the same time. Harvey stumbled back, his gun going off wildly and missing its target. Just as the sword was to bury itself in Bullocks skull, though, an armored gauntlet appeared and deflected the blow.

“No more death,” Batman growled and brought up his other fist, smashing into the damaged ear of the assassin.

Slade let out a cry of pain that he quickly silenced, cursing himself for the outburst. Still, he moved back into the room as Batman shoved Harvey aside and bolted forward to press the attack.

The sword swung out at the dark knight but he dodged it easily, bringing his fist into Slade’s gut, where he had been shot. Even with the body armor, he felt it. The odds were not in his favor, and though he knew that he would heal from both wounds, he was losing blood, and the shot in the face had disoriented him more then he would have cared to admit.

Deathstroke blocked several more blows from his former student, each time stepping precisely where he wanted the fight to proceed. Then, as Batman came in with a low kick, Deathstroke did a black-flip that brought his feet into contact with the far wall. Pushing himself off with all his strength, he flew over Batman, bringing the hilt of the sword down hard on the back of the cowl, and then landed; doing a summer-salt and coming up directly in front of Harvey Bullock.

Even though Batman staggered forward he recovered quickly and spun around to watch Slade coming out of his roll and bringing the sword up with him. He watched in horror as the blade slid into Harvey’s rumpled suit like a hot knife through butter. Harvey let out a gasp and collapsed.

Slade, now in the hall, turned to his former pupil. “I think we both know what you’re going to do next.”

Batman watched as Deathstroke disappeared from view. He then stumbled forward, his head still swimming, and grabbed an extra blanket from end of the bed, putting it onto Bullock’s stab wound, and applying pressure. He looked up to see that Jim had passed out again, the gun still lying in his hand.

He barely heard Nightwing stumble towards him, the drugs that had knocked him out, still in his system.

“Nightwing, you’ve got to go get help. Now. I’ll wake Batgirl and get her out of here, but this place is going to be swarming with police and with medical personnel. Bullock needs attention now.”

Although still weak, Nightwing nodded and headed towards the room he had changed in. Another cop down, he thought as he went. At times like this, he couldn’t help but realize that New York was a heck of a lot safer place to be in law enforcement.

Barbara felt relieved until she saw the look on Dick’s face. “There’s more, isn’t there?” She asked.

He nodded, “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but Black Mask tried to kidnap little Jimmy earlier this evening, but something went wrong. The getaway car had a bomb in it. Barbara, I’m sorry.”

For the second time in less then two days it felt like the rug had been pulled out from under her. She held onto the end of the examination table, trying desperately to hold onto her sanity as well.

“Does Dad know? And what about Barbara?” she asked, referring to James’ wife.

“Yeah, they just told your dad, and Barbara is heavily medicated and in her own room on the second floor. You should also know that someone slipped your father a gun. He fended off Deathstroke on his own. Well, actually with a little help from Harvey Bullock. Harvey got stabbed, but they say he’s going to be okay.”

“My god, Dick, this entire city is going crazy.”

The doctor finished his work and cautioned her to stay off the leg as much as possible. After he had walked away, she looked around cautiously and then returned to the conversation.

“Where’s Bruce?”

“He’s finishing up business. Seems that the account he was working on didn’t slip through his fingers after all. Come on, let’s go see your father. I think he needs you right now.”

He helped her down and she put her arm over his shoulder, allowing him to help her cross the corridor. She couldn’t look at him, not like she wanted to. She had to stay focused. Her father needed her now, more then ever.

Dawn was right around the corner, but Batman was not done. He had been following the tracking device he had planted on Deathstroke for some time now. It was moving across town, and then just as suddenly, it had stopped. At best, he was hoping Slade would lead him to Black Mask. At the very least, he would take care of Slade once and for all.

He slowed down as the signal was at its strongest. He looked up at the building in front of him, and although he should have been surprised, he was not. Janus Cosmetics. Now a subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises. Beneath his cowl, Bruce Wayne’s furrow creased. Things were starting to make some sense, and the answers were here, with Sionis, and he was getting all of them before he dragged Roman off to jail.

It took scant minutes to park the car in the back alley and fire his cable up to the floor that housed the big office of the “big man”. Although still injured, with the possibility of a minor concussion, he prepared himself for what he was about to face. If Slade were here, he would probably have to go through him to get to Roman.

But as he peered through the window he saw only one figure. He knew it was Sionis, although he was wearing the mask… the black mask. It was true. He looked closer to see that Roman was holding the transmitter that he had slipped into Slade’s boot, as he made his final leap for freedom at the hospital.

Should have known he’d find it, Batman thought to himself as he took a deep breath and prepared himself.

Then, covering his body with his cloak, he threw himself against the window, the glass shattering inward and all around the desk. Black Mask took a step back, his curses flying freely.

Batman stood up and shook the glass from his cape. “It’s over, Sionis. You’re little enterprise is over before it even really began.”

“You think so?” Black Mask said with a bit of musing in his voice. “I think you, like everyone else, have underestimated me. My reign is just beginning, Batman. I’m here to stay.”

Batman clenched his fists and began to walk forward, “We’ll see about that.”

Black Mask watched Batman come towards him, not moving a muscle. He wasn’t about to back down, not now, not ever. Sionis’ don’t back down!

“You killed Commissioner Loeb, Garfield Lyons, and Rupert Thorne. You’ve done everything in your power to take down every major crime boss in this city. You are under arrest for each one of those murders.”

“I didn’t kill Rupert Thorne, and you know that, Batman. Boss Maroni did that, and I will not be accused of a crime I didn’t commit. I want all the crime bosses on their knees in front of me, not six feet under. Where’s the fun in that, I tell you! Loeb and Lyons were flaking out on me, they became a liability, but Thorne… oh Maroni will pay for taking out Thorne without my permission.”

Batman smirked, “Thanks for the confession, Mask. Now tell me why? Why did you do all of this?”

“You are, for all your great detective skills, the stupidest man on the planet.” Roman chortled. “You flap your cape and vow to rid this city of crime, but it just keeps coming, doesn’t it. You do nothing more then stoke the fire. You’re a goddamn magnet for crime! Gotham City is the capital of crime, and the only one who doesn’t see it, is you! There is more money and more power to be had in the underworld of this city then any corporation could think about making! People like Bruce Wayne and Roman Sionis are nothing more then bit players in this town. You want real power here, then you have to take over the biggest market this city has going for it.”

“Doesn’t matter now,” Batman growled through clenched teeth. “You failed in your attempt, and now your going to prison for a very long time.”

Black Mask began to laugh, the sound strangely hollow from inside the mask. “Okay, send me to prison you moron. You just don’t get it, and you never will. I can run this city no matter where I’m at. While I’ve had you and this police force running around and ducking for cover, I’ve been working my way quietly into so many different area’s of this city, that I’m everywhere now. Drugs, guns, black market items. I’m here to stay, Mr. Vigilante. The other bosses will kneel to me, eventually, and I will be on top. You can’t win! You never could! I’ve already accomplished what my father said I never could. I’ve taken over Gotham, and nobody can stop me!” Roman was beginning to shout now, clapping his hands in glee.

“It’s men like you that don’t get it,” Batman said. “You don’t own this city, and you never will. And there will always be someone to stop you, if not me, then the GCPD. You might think that crime runs this city, but it doesn’t, it falls, all the time. Brick by brick it’s taken apart. You’re just too pathetic to see it The police are already on their way.”

“Oh, you keep thinking that, you… what the hell…?”

Every instinct told him to turn and look, and Batman did. He saw, just before it came careening into the office, the rocket that was headed straight towards them both.

“Damn.”

The employees of the Iceberg Lounge had just finished up for the night and were heading out the door. Oswald Cobblepot had seen them all go, and would count the days receipts a third time before he returned to his penthouse for a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep.

He entered his office to find the phone ringing. After he answered it, he listened to the British accented voice on the other end, giving him the news he so wanted to hear.

“Very good,” Oswald replied. “Inform your employer that the information is already on its way to the requested address. Also inform him that it was a pleasure doing business with him.”

The man called Penguin hung up the phone and began to dance around the room, his eyes twinkling with glee. It was done, and now the city would be his oyster.

There was a knock at his office door.

“Yes?”

His right hand man opened the door, “Everyone’s gone and the place is locked up, Sir. Anything else before I leave?”

Cobblepot grinned. “Oh yes, my dear boy. It seems that we will not be getting any sleep anytime soon. I want you to call the local news stations and have them meet me at Gotham General. Then go to the orphanage and pick up the package that was received there last night. It is time, my friend, to put the final piece in place.”

His man nodded and closed the door quietly behind him.

Oswald Cobblepot went to his mirror and straightened his tie. He wanted to make sure he looked good for the cameras.

James Gordon lay in his hospital bed, watching the news, only half listening, when the door opened and his wife walked in. He was shocked at how she looked. Her cloths and hair were disheveled and she walked to him as if she were not all there.

They’ve medicated her, he realized. For a split second he thought of the zombie case, and how much, at that moment, his wife could have passed for one of them.

“Barbara…” He started, but then the words failed him. She came to him slowly and the tears came down his face. His son was dead, his wife nearly catatonic, and there he was in a hospital bed, a bullet lodged near his spine.

“We lost him,” She said in a voice that was as dead and hollow as a three day old corpse. “Our son is gone.”

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry, Barbara. I’m so sorry for everything.”

She looked at him with those dead eyes, “I know that. I know you are, and I’m relieved that you are going to be okay, Jim, I really am, but…”

The voice on the television interrupted them and caught their attention.

“This is Bethany Snow with a GNN breaking news story. We’re about to go live to Gotham General where one of Gotham’s most influential entrepreneurs is getting ready to make a statement that sources say will have a large impact on the events of the recent mob war, and the violence against Gotham’s newest commissioner, James Gordon.”

“What the hell…” Jim Gordon said as he turned up the televison.

Two Weeks Later[/b]

It shown in the night sky like a beacon, but this time it was not calling for Batman, it was calling for two others. They had received the message and James Gordon, using a cane, and Harvey Dent found Batman standing next to the signal, waiting for them. At his feet was a gentleman tied and gagged.

“Who do you have here?” Gordon asked.

“Call it a congratulations gift for becoming Commissioner,” Batman replied. “His name is Gerald Devin and he’s the assassin that took out Thorne’s killer. He’s ready to confess. He’ll tell you everything you need to know, to make a solid case against Boss Maroni, the man who orchestrated Thorne’s murder.”

Dent grinned and Jim nodded in way of a thank you.

There was a beat before Batman spoke again, “Jim, I was sorry to hear about you and Barbara. I know it can’t be easy.”

Jim was taken back by the sudden change. This was a side of Batman that he had only shown once or twice before, and if he were honest with himself, it was the side that seemed to creep him out the most.

“Thanks, Batman. It wasn’t an easy decision, but Barbara and I both agreed that with my new position, it would be better if they moved out of the city. I guess in the end, this city won. Barbara knew that, and I guess I did too.”

Jim turned to look at Devin, “But it’s times like these that make the pain a bit easier to live with. Thank you Bat…” but as he turned back, he found that the dark knight detective was gone.

Harvey Dent looked around. “I don’t know how you get used to that.”

“I’ll let you know when I do.”

Harvey grabbed the hit man and pulled him up. The guy was sporting a black eye, but otherwise seemed fine, albeit, terrified.

“You going to tell me everything I need to know?” Harvey demanded in his question.

The hit man nodded vigorously.

“Good. Maybe I can have an arrest warrant for Boss Maroni by morning. Then I can finally show the crime bosses what Harvey Dent is really made of.”

Jim smiled at his friend. “It’s about time for you to shine, my friend. With you in charge, Boss Maroni won’t know what hit him.”

They walked back into the building, dragging their captive.

The End.
For now…[/b]