Dynasty: A Batman Tale Part 12

NOW

To Jim Gordon, a rain storm in Gotham felt like GOD’s tears falling from the heavens. Jim watched the ponderous raindrops ricocheting off the bright searchlight aimed up at the night sky. The droplets sizzling as they bounced off the incandescent light, the sound tinging off the metal bat silhouette at its center. The Commissioner was able to stay dry by standing underneath a small awning just next to the roof access door. He wanted to grab a quick moment for himself, take a few puffs from his chewed up stogie before heading in to address the troops. Gordon had spent the past few hours reading and rereading all the reports and witness statements regarding the incident at Freeze. After combing through all the accounts and watching the video from the surveillance cameras, Jim dreaded the road the evidence was leading him down. Jesus Christ! Can he be back after all this time? Damn it, I always knew this day would come.

Gordon made his way back downstairs to his office, he had a group of GCPD’s finest waiting in the bullpen and was minutes away from disclosing the nature of the situation. Jim’s files were on his desk, but before he grabbed them, he walked around to where a bottle of Jamison Irish Whiskey stood three quarters empty. Gordon poured himself two fingers, swallowed it back, fixed his tie, picked up his files from the desk and headed out. Here we go again!

The Commissioner walked into where the officers were waiting and tossed the files down onto the conference table. Pictures scattered all over, blanketing it with the faces of the past twenty-four hour murder victims. Gordon let all the cops in the room soak in the pictures. The images were of five young women, all dead after having their throats slit from ear to ear. A young rookie new to the force ran over to the trash bin in the corner and lost his dinner. The older veterans of the force, over time had been able to numb themselves from the horrors of Gotham, the same couldn’t be said for the inexperienced in the room.

Jim tossed another pile of photos onto the table, this time most of the cops in the room were visibly rattled. The pictures showed the remains of what had once been five innocent men who had answered the wrong advertisement.

“That’s ten victims!” Commissioner Gordon started, “Within twenty-four hours.” Gordon watched the officer’s reactions. Their dreadful expressions echoed one another. They all felt a sense of fear, a fear he now had to admit, by uttering a name he hadn’t had to say in years. “It’s Joker.”

THEN

In the thirteen years since Detective Jim Gordon moved to Gotham, he became a father, a widower, was promoted to Lieutenant and now led Gotham’s Major Crimes Unit. Organized Crime ruled the streets and though half the Force was on the take, Gordon was not. Over the years Blackgate Prison’s population grew thanks to men like Gordon, but no matter how many arrests were made, the streets of Gotham remained dangerous.

The night the world turned upside down started unlike any other night, as if the City sensed change in the wind. Gordon could feel it in the air, something was coming, an uneasy feeling rolled through his body. The City was preparing itself. There were less ladies of the night prowling street corners, drug pushers were making their deals behind closed doors and for the first four hours of Jim’s shift, the police radio was ominously quiet.

Gordon was sitting at a red light half a dozen blocks from Arkham when the call came in. There had been an incident in the maximum-security ward. Jim hit his siren and took off for the hospital. Having no idea what he was heading into, he radioed dispatch for more information.

“Lt. Gordon, the alarms in the maximum-security ward have been triggered. Arkham protocols have mandated a total lock down, Guards on the scene report no hospital personal are in that area.” Crackled the operator on the line.

“Copy that dispatch, I’m two minutes out, get S.W.A.T and all other personnel en route ASAP!” Gordon’s voice rose with intensity.

“But sir we’re still in the dark, the resources you’re asking for…” the voice on the other end of the channel began, but Jim cut her off.

“Dispatch, look at the patient manifest for Arkham, Get every able body over there, NOW!” Jim never understood how certain people were in law enforcement. This isn’t a job, it’s THE Job and if you’re going to commit yourself to it, then do your God Damn homework!

The female dispatch’s voice came back shaking, “Roger that sir!” Seconds later Gordon’s radio crackled back to life. “Sir, we’ve got a report that the rest of the hospital lost all communication just after one of their men reported that two doctors had been killed.”

Damn it! Jim threw the handheld microphone of the CB radio onto the seat and hit the gas. The past decade serving the streets taught Gordon that events had a fifty-fifty chance of getting worse and he had stopped placing bets. He knew that housed inside those walls were the most dangerous souls he had ever come in contact with. And if even a fraction of the whispering rumors I’ve heard coming out of that place are true, this city could become a ticking time bomb.

Arkham was made up of three structures, an emergency room and medical institution, the administration building and the psychiatric wing with its maximum-security ward, each separated by enclosed atriums. Gordon pulled up to the gatehouse at the western edge of the hospital’s property, from here he could see the entire span of the facility’s parking lots, as well as the entrances which were all currently locked. Jim positioned his sedan barricading the exit as the distant sound of sirens filled the air. They’re still a few minutes out.

An older guard stationed in the gatehouse approached Gordon, “Name’s Henderson.”

“What’s the status?” Gordon asked while surveying the fifty yards of asphalt and grass standing between himself and the rolling steel doors currently walling off the hospital entryway to the asylum.

A moment later, two GCPD squad cars pulled up behind Jim’s car, the officers scrambled into covering positions behind their vehicles. “What’s the situation Lieutenant Gordon?” A freckle faced rookie asked over his radio.

“You know about as much as I do, the patient-inmates escaped custody somehow and the place is locked down.” Jim responded. “Dispatch said we have dead doctors, but the ward is contained and no one else is in there with them.”

“Yuri’s in there!” Interjected Henderson.

“Who the hell’s Yuri?” Gordon asked.

“He’s the guard on duty inside.”

“Where is he?”

“In the monitoring room, he’s the one who raised the alarm and reported the incident…,” Henderson paused as a grievous look came over his face, “Oh no!”

“What is it?” Jim demanded.

“Well, hopefully nothing. They shouldn’t be able to get in there with him, but…” Henderson’s hand rubbed at his temple, “…there’s a weapons locker in that room.”

Without warning, the steel door that had activated and dropped cutting off access into the maximum-security ward began rolling up. Unsure of what was happening, Gordon and the other officers watched the now exposed entryway. A minute went by with no one exiting the building, a minute that felt like an eternity to Jim Gordon. Henderson stepped forward, “Is it over?”

It hasn’t even begun! And as if on cue with his thoughts, gunfire erupted from inside the building firing an array of bullets toward the police lieutenant. “Hit the deck,” Jim yelled diving behind his Crown Victoria. Henderson dove for cover next to Jim.

The detective drew his weapon and blindly opened fire. Stupid, find your target Jim! He popped his head above the hood and counted five armed suspects exiting the building. They were spraying bullets in all directions, one of them, Jim recognized as Edward Nigma, splintered from the group and took off through the adjoining parking lot. Where the hell is he going?

Behind Jim, more police arrived. Finally! He thought as he felt the air split above his head by a series of bullets. Officers exiting their cars were taking heavy fire. Henderson, panicking motioned back toward the gatehouse, but Gordon pulled him back, “Are you crazy? STAY DOWN!”

“The clown is going to kill us!” Henderson cried.

“Clown, what clown?” Gordon popped his head above the car hood risking another glance at the shooters, and immediately knew. My GOD! The Albino! That’s John Robinson! No longer catatonic, but completely psychotic, Joker had stepped under a street light allowing Gordon to see the blood stained smile that stretched over his scarred mouth. Following his lead in their assault, Jim identified the disfigured Basil Karlo along with the pedophile Jervis Tetch and Eco-terrorist Pamela Isley. Henderson made a run for the gatehouse and took a bullet to the gut dropping him to the asphalt crying in pain. An officer from behind Gordon ran over to help, but was struck down, his lifeless body draping over the wounded security guard.

Jim watched the evil clown take aim at Henderson to finish him off. Gordon fired. ‘CLICK’. Son of a Bitch! Empty. He released the spent clip and inserted a full one, but before he could return fire, a bolas from out of nowhere wrapped around the clown’s automatic rifle. Without hesitating, Gordon sprang from the cover of his car and instinctively grabbed an unconscious Henderson and dragged him to safety.

Jim’s attention returned to the escapees, he realized they were no longer shooting in his direction. Instead they were now unleashing a storm of bullets back at the building. Jim followed their line of sight up to the roof. What the...? He thought rubbing his eyes trying to discern what he was seeing, perched on the edge of the eaves was a masked figure clad in black. Jim watched in awe as the disguised man fired a line launcher to the pavement and jumped from the rooftop. As he did so, a large black cape stretched out giving him the appearance of, a giant bat! Jim thought.

A bullet whizzed by Gordon’s head snapping him back to the ensuing gun battle. Over the shots he could hear laughter coming from the pasty villain. Isley, Karlo and Tetch were firing at Gordon while Joker laughed at the sight of the strange newcomer. Gordon returned fire emptying his clip. They were going to be on top of him any second. He popped his head above the gatehouse window sill to find their position, when he saw a small circular device land in the middle of the distance between himself and the oncoming criminals. A red light centered on the object was blinking faster and faster and a high pitch whistle was growing louder. Gordon’s instincts were one of the reasons he was both a good cop and still alive, he had the insight to look away just as the gadget detonated. Jim had never seen anything like the specialized flash-bang before, it created a barrier of flames protecting him from the coming onslaught. Gordon could barely make out the figures through the fire, but within seconds he heard a vehicle screech to a halt and then accelerate away.

In all his years enforcing the law, Jim Gordon could count how many gun battles he’d been in on one hand, and comparable to those, time felt as if it had slowed down. In reality, the entire episode had been less than three minutes. Gordon’s car was riddled with bullet holes, smoke was billowing from the engine, and with no way to pursue he knew, They’re gone!

When S.W.A.T. and the remaining members of Gotham’s finest finally arrived on the scene, they found the detective standing above the remnant of the little object that had just saved his life. Jim scanned the surrounding area but no sign of the mysterious figure. Whoever or Whatever that was, I’d be dead right now. Thank you!

An officer approached Gordon from behind and asked, “What the hell was that thing?”

Jim shook his head, “I haven’t the faintest idea!” How the hell Am I going to write this up?

Later that night, once the detective was able to return to the precinct and type up a report, he found himself unsure of what to write. He knew if he committed to paper ‘man dressed as a Bat’ it would get skewed in the media, but he had no choice except to be truthful and convey exactly what had happened. That’s why he wasn’t surprised when he read the headlines the following day about the mysterious Batman roaming the rooftops of Gotham.

NOW

The Commissioner had just finished briefing the major crimes unit on the situation, he couldn’t recall the last time there was such silence as he walked out. They’re scared and they should be, killing cops is a favorite past time for this sick psychopath. The Joker and his circus are back, but where have they been? And why now?

He sat down at his desk which were covered with the case files for Joker, Edward Nigma, Jervis Tetch, Basil Karlo, and Pamela Isley. They were ruthless, violent and each had a perverted view of reality. They were each locked up in Arkham for their individual violent crimes, and then busted out as a group that went onto cause years of chaos. Gordon knew if it were not for Batman, Gotham would have burned long ago.

Also on his desk was another decent size file with the name Harley Quinn written on it. The folder’s contents were mostly surveillance photos from her involvement with all of Joker’s crimes after the escape from Arkham. She had disappeared along with the rest of them years ago when one day they simply vanished without a trace. And now they’re back.

“Commissioner?” came the voice of the officer at his door.

Gordon looked up and saw the weary expression on the patrolman’s face, “Yes officer?”

“Ah, we just received a report of a homicide and, ah…” the cop stuttered.

“Homicide division is one floor down son,” Gordon confirmed.

“Sir, but…” The officer spoke up again.

“But WHAT officer?”

“The victim sir, it’s one of them.” Gordon saw the young patrolman pointing at the pictures on the whiteboard of Joker and his crew.

Gordon shot up out of is chair, “Which one?”

The officer pointed at the photo of The Mad Hatter and said, “Somebody killed Jervis Tetch.”