Story [Batman] Once Upon a Time in Gotham City (Updated 9/10/09)

Title: Once Upon a Time in Gotham City
Author: Reynar_Tedros
Summary: Once Upon a Time in Gotham City is an episodic series of intertwined stories that chronicle Batman's quests as the caped crusader of Gotham City and the many villains who attempt to thwart him.
Other: Special thanks to Bob Kane for creating such a rich mythology to enjoy and work with, to the folks at TheForce.Net for allowing me to host this story, to the many users who help me with my writing, and to the readers who give me the motivation to continue.

---

[blockquote][b]Part I: Hard Justice[/b][/blockquote]
[hr]
[b]1: 1[/b]

?So, you from around here??

David Cain?s quiet daydreaming was quickly interrupted by the deep voice from the front seat, and he shifted his cold blue eyes from staring out of the backseat window of the taxi he was currently seated in to the back of the head of the burly black driver who?d just attempted to ignite a conversation.

?No,? he replied curtly. David was a man of many talents, one of which was his uncanny ability to be whatever it was the situation required of him. He could be a perfect gentleman in one instant, well-mannered and conversational, and in the blink of an eye transform into a ruthless, unnerving killer with a hard stare that could rip through the soul in a second. Now, he was tired.

The driver merely nodded. ?What brings you out to Gotham??

David was still staring at the back of the driver?s head. In such situations, his mind often drifted into the act of analyzing different methods of killing the person right then and there. He could use a silenced pistol, straight through the back of the seat, swift and clean. When the car was stopped of course. Or maybe a strip of fiber wire around the neck. A small struggle, naturally, but a satisfying finish.

?Business,? he said.

?Oh yeah? What do you do for a living??

David?s calculating gaze shifted from the back of the driver?s head to the rearview mirror at the front of the cab, where he could see the man?s eyes. ?I?m involved with murders and executions.?

?Ahhh, okay, okay,? the driver nodded, clearly pleased that he?d finally gotten a conversation out of the silent man behind him. ?Yeah, I got a niece down in Mississippi that deals in mergers and acquisitions, and she enjoys it.? There was a pause, David?s eyes never moving. ?That?s what she tells my wife, anyway.? The man chuckled.

David nodded with a small grin. ?Yeah, well. It?s a good line of work.?

?That?s a good thing to have, my friend. Good thing. I always tell my son, ?Stay in school, boy. Don?t end up like your old man driving beat up cabs for a living. Get out there and make something of yourself.? He?s a good boy.?

The two pairs of eyes met in the rearview mirror, and David gave a friendly smile. ?Tell me about him. Your son.?

?Oh, he?s a good boy. Gonna be twelve this November. Never complains about anything, even though I can?t give him everything he wants. It kills me, but he makes it easier. Boy?s smile can light up a room, I tell you what.?

David nodded and smiled the entire time. ?Well, it sounds like you have a nice family.?

?Wouldn?t trade it for the world, my friend.? The cab slowly pulled to a halt in front of the destination. ?Well, here you go. Evergreen Suites.?

David reached into the inside pocket of the black jacket of his three piece suit and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a fifty. Before he folded the wallet back up, the driver asked, ?Is that your daughter there?? David looked down at the picture that was tucked inside the transparent sleeve of the billfold, the picture of a young girl seated in front of a blue backdrop, her long brown hair curled, a wide grin on her face. He stared at it for a moment.

?Yeah,? he said. ?Yeah, that?s mine.?

?Looks like you have a beautiful family, too.?

David said nothing as he tucked the wallet back in the pocket of his suit and gave the fifty dollar bill to the driver. He then extended his hand over the seat, and the driver shook it.

?It was a pleasure,? he said. ?Don?t wo

 

1: 2

Commissioner Gordon patiently stood atop the concrete roof of the Gotham City Police Department, sipping on a warm cup of coffee as he leaned his aging body against his very own customized giant spotlight that was currently sending a large signal of a bat into the otherwise pitch black sky. It was the Commissioner?s only form of distant communication with Batman, and whenever he activated it there was no telling how long it would take the caped crusader to arrive, depending on how busy he was.

Gordon put his hand next to the spotlight to check his watch. ?That was fast,? he mused.

?Slow night,? came the brooding, chilling voice from the darkness that no criminal in Gotham City ever wanted to hear. It was a voice that Gordon, on the other hand, had become friends with, a trusted ally in a city where trust was a hard thing to come by.

?Coffee?? Gordon held up his mug half-heartedly, knowing that Batman would decline, as he always did.

?No, thanks.?

The Commissioner took a sip and sighed, pushing the thin rectangular glasses up the bridge of his nose. ?Did you hear about the murder from earlier today??

?The Luxury Inn. I heard.?

Gordon nodded. ?The man who was shot? do you know?? Gordon always had to check before he started informing Batman of something he may have already gathered himself.

?No.?

"His name was Frank Baker. Last week three of my officers were accused of severely beating a convenience store robber without reasonable cause. They?d caught up to him after the robbery, and he claims that he surrendered without incident, but that the officers proceeded to beat him to death with their clubs. The officers, on the other hand, claim the guy pulled a gun on them and that they were forced to defend themselves. Well, there was one witness on the scene who was willing to testify. He would have put the nail in the coffin on the case and probably would have sent three of my guys to the pen.?

?Baker.?

?Exactly. Now that he?s dead, there are no witnesses except for the robber and the officers.?

?Do you think one of your men had something to do with Baker?s death??

?Well. All three of them have solid alibis at the time of the murder, and the burglar has a long history of criminal activity. One guess which way the jury?s gonna go on this one. Dent?s furious.?

?What do you think??

Gordon sighed, evidence of a tired, worn down man painted all over his wrinkled visage. ?God, I don?t know. There?s a degree of trust I have to have with my officers, but working with what I have, the kind of people in this city who carry around badges and guns? there?s nothing I can do about it, I have to do the best with what I?ve got. Would I put the accusations past any one of those three? No. Do I think they did it? I wasn?t there, so all I can do is hope it?s not true.?

?Dent thinks they did it.?

?Naturally. He?s been breathing down my neck for months, accusing over half of my force of corruption. I can?t do anything about it, there?s no proof. As long as they keep bringing the bad guys in, I don?t have any reason to doubt them.?

?But you do.?

Gordon laughed quietly. Sometimes it seemed as if Batman was his own personal psychiatrist. ?They walk a fine line, but they get the job done. I just worry that one of these days, something?s going to push one of them over the edge. Maybe it did with this robber, I don't know.?

There was silence for a moment. ?I?ll keep an eye on them,? Batman spoke.

?You?ve got enough on your plate.?

?Like I said. It?s a slow night.?

Gordon let out a small grin.

?Any leads on the Baker shooting??

The Commissioner sighed. ?Not one. All we know is that it had to have been a professional. The shooter had to have been in the hotel across the street, so we checked with the woman who was working there at the time. She said a man called Trevor Bateman checked in to a room just a few minutes before the shooting, and that he specifically asked for a room on the fifth floor overlooking the hotel?s entrance. She said he was carrying a long trunk that could have held a sniper rifle. Not surprising

 

1: 3

Batman knew that the investigation on the death of Frank Baker, if the Gotham police were involved as he suspected, would be quickly closed and left unsolved in the blink of an eye to cover their tracks. As crooked as some of the men could be, they were loyal to each other and wouldn?t betray anyone unless something was in it for themselves. But he couldn?t interrogate the three accused officers if he wasn?t sure for himself that they were responsible, so the only thing left for him to do was to dig.

It was just before midnight when he grappled up to room 407 of the Luxury Inn, the room Baker was staying in when he met his untimely fate. The window of the room had been removed earlier that day, taken to ballistics in order to trace the pattern of the hole in the glass that the bullet created. The smell of dried blood loomed in the air as Batman stepped through the open space and into the dark room. He pressed a small button on the inside of the right ear of his cowl, and his lenses instantly switched to night vision. There was a chalk outline of where the victim?s body was found in between two double beds, directly in front of the small side table where the phone was left off the hook, dangling on the cord over the head of the chalk body.

Batman didn?t believe in coincidence. The fact that Baker was talking on the phone when he was shot wasn?t just a convenience for the killer. It was set up. He looked behind him at the room on the fifth floor of Evergreen Suites across the street, where the shooter had set up shop. It was a perfect shot, straight from there to the phone. They must have had Frank's room number and called the hotel, and simply waited for him to pick up. When he did, bang. One less witness to worry about.

The phone on Commissioner Gordon?s desk rang, and he set the folder down and answered. ?Gordon.?

It was Batman on the other end. ?Was Frank Baker involved in anything shady that may have been responsible for what happened? Anything suspicious, dealings with the mob??

?No. No, we?ve checked all his records, there?s nothing there to indicate anything. He?s clean.?

?So the only people who could have possibly wanted him dead were the three officers from the robber?s case.?

?As far as we can tell, yes.? Gordon didn?t like where this was going.

?Are any of them on duty tonight??

The Commissioner sighed. ?Yeah, Officer Harkin?s out patrolling.?

?He wouldn?t happen to be driving by the Luxury Inn in his squad car??

?That?s his zone, yes.? Gordon heard the line go dead. ?Batman? Batman!? And then he hung up the phone and swore to himself.

?Son of a *****!? Harkin slammed on the brakes with both feet, his body tensing up against the back of his seat as the squad car skidded to a halt. He opened the door and got out, furiously throwing out profanities in every direction.

?I need to talk to you,? Batman growled as the officer approached him in a fit. The dark knight was standing directly in front of the car, the headlights illuminating him in the otherwise darkened road.

?You ******* loony, you have no right!?

?Now.? Batman?s voice was unrelenting, demanding. He wasn?t taking no for an answer, not tonight.

?You don?t get to make demands here, you piece of ****.? Harkin, a tall and well built man with a close flat top haircut and goatee, threw a punch at Batman?s face that was easily dodged, and found himself thrown face down on the hood of the squad car, hard.

?This doesn?t have to be difficult.?

Harkin struggled. ?**** you, man. God! Dammit, you better get off of me.? His resistance was clearly futile against the brute strength that Batman was enforcing upon him. His face wasn?t lifting up from the hood unless the masked warrior wanted it to.

?Stop it.? More struggling ensued, but Batman kept Harkin pinned to the car with relative ease. ?Stop.? Finally, the fatigued officer obeyed, resting his head on the hood, breathing heavily.

?You?re dead, do you know that?? Harkin barked in a rage.

?We need to talk about Frank Baker.?

?******* dead, man,? he mumbled. ?You are so dead.?

Batman

 

1: 4

Cain slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, accelerating into the empty street with his left hand controlling the steering wheel, his right loading up ammunition in a pistol. He set the firearm down on the passenger seat next to him and quickly turned left at an intersection, not bothering to obey the red light on the lampost. The warehouse where his daughter was being held hostage was about a ten minute drive from where he was, and he was determined to make it in five.

Wind whipped in Batman's face as he raced down the street on top of the Batcycle, feeling the force of his cape billowing violently in the hard breeze behind him. He knew that if he didn't stop Cain that the night would end in even more bloodshed, that of the two police officers who'd kidnapped the assassin's daughter.

Cain saw the lone headlight in his rearview mirror, and instantly knew that Batman was hot on his trail. He grabbed the pistol out of the passenger seat of the car, keeping his eyes fixed on the motorcycle approaching from behind, and stuck the gun out of the window, firing off all the rounds in the clip.

Batman felt a bullet kareem off of the shoulder of his kevlar Batsuit and heard another graze the side of the bike. He swerved left and right down the road to keep Cain from having a straight target, steadily making progress toward the black sedan ahead of him. Keeping the bike steady, Batman pulled a batarang from his utility belt and threw it at the left rear wheel of the car.

As Cain quickly reloaded his pistol with ease and calmness, he heard a loud pop and felt the tire behind him go out, causing the car to swerve. Without dropping the loaded pistol, he slammed on the brake and stopped the car in the middle of the road after a 180 degree spin. He saw Batman headed straight for him, and stuck his pistol out of the window.

Batman knew that if he stopped he would surely be shot and killed by the deadly assassin, so as the bike quickly zoomed towards the stopped car that now faced him, he lifted his body while keeping his hands on the handlebars, and crouched on top of the seat. The first bullet whizzed over his head, and then he jumped, his body flat, arms out, and flew towards the windshield of the car. Cain was steadily firing off shots and missing, as if Batman were an intangible apparition, a ghost in the night. Batman tucked his face into his chest and crashed through the windshield, elbowing Cain's face in the process. He steadied himself and lifted himself up and grabbed the now bloody and bruised Cain by the collar of his shirt, the pistol safely in the passenger floorboard, and pulled him out of the car and stood on the concrete ground below.

Cain quickly lifted his arms and shoved Batman's hands off his collar and stepped back. He threw a lightning fast punch at the Bat's face, and it landed.

Batman regained his footing against the concrete, now standing several feet away from one of the most dangerous killers in the world on an abandoned street in the middle of the night. The warehouse was barely a mile away from where they stood. "Stop it, Cain!"

Cain ignored the demand and quickly jumped toward Batman and threw a swift kick at his torso. Batman, who moved faster than any person Cain had ever encountered, quickly sidestepped the kick and grabbed the assassin's foot, twisting it so that he ended up landing on his back.

Cain quickly kicked himself up off the ground in a flash and sent a flurry of punches in Batman's direction. The two men moved quickly, offering and deflecting punches like it was second nature. At last, Batman feigned to the left and threw a right hook at Cain's face that landed, sending the assassin stumbling back. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Batman rotated his body and sent Cain to the ground with a swift roundhouse that knocked him unconscious. The victor of the battle walked over to the loser, and he knelt down, pulling out restraints from his utility belt.

"I'll save your daughter, Cain," Batman said as he took Cain's hands and tied them together with the wire, and then did

 

1: 5

The blue and red revolving lights above the GCPD squad cars and ambulances lit up the darkened lot of the abandoned warehouse. Cassandra Cain was seated at the rear of the ambulance as two medics checked her out. She still hadn't said a word.

"Strange, isn't it?" Gordon leaned back against the wall of the warehouse, where Batman stood safely around the corner in the shadows.

"Mmm," Batman agreed.

"She just doesn't speak," Gordon took a sip of his coffee. "We've tried talking to her, asked her questions. We even resorted to telling her a few jokes. Nothing. Gets kidnapped, taken hostage, watches you take down two police officers, and shows no signs of any emotion whatsoever." Gordon shivered. "Gives me chills just thinking about it."

"Does she have a mother?"

"She lives in a foster home, but as for her biological mother, we don't know." Gordon sighed. "I still can't believe three of my guys would do something like this."

"It's not your fault."

"Isn't it? I'm the one accountable for these men."

"Every man is accountable for his own actions, Gordon. This was their doing, not yours."

"I know." Gordon hesitated. "Thanks."

"And the other Cain?"

"Picked him up just where you left him. No resistance."

As Gordon finished off the last few sips of his coffee, a female officer approached him. "Commissioner?" she said.

Gordon could have sworn he heard the faint sound of Batman leaving behind him. "What is it, Montoya?"

"The girl's fine. We just talked to her foster mother and she's meeting us down at the station."

"Good," Gordon nodded. "Looks like we're done here."

---

The next morning, Gordon sat behind his desk checking e-mails on the computer when he heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, and the door opened. Standing now before Gordon was a tall, well-built gentleman with a three piece suit and blue tie, with a short black hair cut that was gelled to the front. He had the face of a movie star and the physique of a star athlete.

"Morning, Gordon," he said, and shut the door behind him.

"Hello, Harvey," Gordon pursed his lips into a smile and nodded.

"Busy?" the district attorney wanted to know.

"Are you kidding? I'm the commissioner of the GCPD, I've got all the time in the world."

Harvey grinned at the joke, and took a seat in the chair on the opposite side of Gordon's desk. "I heard about the kidnapping."

"Okay."

"Three officers on your payroll conspired to kidnap a ten year-old girl in an attempt to erase their debt from a wanted assassin."

"And now one of them is dead and the other two are locked up," Gordon interjected.

"It's been dealt with, sure," Harvey acknowledged. "But what happens if and when there turns out to be even more Harkin's, Elkins', and Radomski's in your department?"

"If that happens, then I'll be prepared to deal with the consequences that follow and do my job to the best of my abilities."

"Gordon-"

"Harvey, look. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that my department is one hundred percent full of saints and martyrs and that your suspicions are completely unwarranted, because I know that's bull ****. But the fact remains that I am the commissioner of this department, and I can't spend my time investigating my own officers when there are plenty of criminals out on the streets that need to be subdued first. Now, I'm not going to stop you from trying to find concrete proof against my men. If anyone can do it, you can. What I'm saying right now is that I can't be of any assistance to you."

Harvey leaned back in his chair. "Fair enough. But I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to ensure that something like what happened last night won't happen again because of a corrupt officer in this city."

Gordon nodded. "Will that be all?"

"For now." Harvey stood up, and Gordon followed suit. The two men shook hands briefly, and Harvey made his exit toward the door. "I appreciate the chat."

"Anytime, Harvey." The door of the office shut, and once again Gordon sat alone. "Anytime."

---

[blockquote][b]Part I: Concluded[/b][/blockquote]
[hr]

Any l