Part Nine: Broken Hearts Bleed No Truth

His foot crunched down a sheet of paper as he shifted his stance. He pressed the rubber linings to the binoculars to his eyes, middle finger stretching to the center to shift the small wheel between the tubes. The image blurred, came into focus, re-blurred, and focused as he watched a shiny black stretch limo pull up in front of the building. Such extravagance, and rightfully so the men inside were full of themselves. And large egos needed transportation capable of handling them.

Arnold, how could you do this to me?

The room he was in smelled of dust. The insulation in the ceiling was probably deteriorating and about five or six of the panels were missing. Useless papers from the insurance company that had been there two months before (and relocated) still scattered the floor. It was the perfect vantage point to watch the Penguin’s high rise building.

It was getting close to nightfall. When the round pudgy man hopped out of the car, he re-adjusted the lenses, trying to get a closer view.
Alas, he couldn’t tell what he was saying, but that thin mouth under his beak of a nose was moving non-stop.

“What exactly are you planning?”
Gordon muttered to himself. He watched as Penguin motioned to one of his loyal henchmen to open one of the back limo doors to let out the other occupants.

“Be careful, Jim.”

The dark voice behind him made Gordon stand up straight and snap around to look. All he could make out was a black outline and a pair of shining eyes, but who it was he could never mistake. “I didn’t call you. Why are you here?” the commissioner asked curtly.

Those eyes narrowed at the respected man. “I didn’t come because you did or didn’t call me. I know what’s going on Jim. I’ve been following the Black Mask since a few months ago…

“I’ve also been keeping an eye on Wesker. The disappearance of a man from Arkham wasn’t about to go unnoticed-”

“He’s not another inmate! He’s-” James caught himself. Scarface had even admitted to manipulate him, and he just tried to blurt out a defense?

He’s probably thinking you deserve a place in Arkham. “-I need to stop him myself. The other’s you can take down yourself. But Wesker I want.”

The figure approached him, bringing the lower half of his face into view, exposed by his cowled mask. “A vendetta will get you no where. You’ll either hurt yourself or do something you’ll regret.

“Go home Jim. If you leave this in my hands you can save yourself and your reputation. You can do a lot more good with that than with revenge.”

Gordon glance back out the window with his binoculars. The limo was there, and the double glass doors at the front of the building were swinging shut. They’d already exited. I couldn’t see how he looked. He scolded himself and lowered the binoculars again, then put on his glasses.

“Okay then, I’ll leave.” He put the binoculars under his arm and started by the Dark Knight for the door. As he passed, though, Batman threw him a doubtful look at his back.

~*~*~

As he opened the door to his car, Gordon threw another glance over at the building. In the back a short, pudgy, balding maintenance man was unscrewing a vent on the back of the building. He stared as he took out the filter, and then put in another fresh one, watching carefully. His eyes followed the protrusion of where the vent would be all the way up the side of the building. It went all the way up the penthouse.

For once, he’d have to go back on his word to Batman. This was too good an opportunity to pass up. He pulled the keys out of his coat, and instead of getting in the car and driving home like he previously said he would, he opened his trunk and pulled out a pair of pliers and a screwdriver set.

~*~


Wesker: Penguin's Iceberg Lodge and Casino. What was supposta be the top birds reformation into a proper working society had in itself many deep dark secrets. Like harboring known and wanted felons. Embezzlement, even murder. The highest room on the very top floor of the large building was usually were such business was conducted. One would think, with a cape and cowl running around on rooftops, that villains wouldn’t conduct business under a skylight. But At last..

With his back pressed to Penguin's well carved desk Roman Sionis, aka the Black Mask, puffed cigar smoke around his suited form. Pitch black, just as black as the charred and disfigured skin that stretched across his face, creating the skull like appearing that was his own beacon of madness. Even Harvey Dent wasn't as ugly, but neither was Two-Face as powerful.

" It's the manpower that's the most important, how much muscle did you say you've got housed in Black-Gate at the moment, Mr. Scarface? " The Cigar was pointed at the duo sitting adjacent from this nasty burnt creature.

" Twenty of my gest goys. Includin' Rhino. " Scarface sat upon the armrest of a fine chair. The little wooden Dummy had it's legs crossed and his own unlit cigar hanging out his mouth. " Plus I put in a call tah Goxy, He'll lone us another twenty if we's spring him the Joker's crazy dame. " The other half of this gruesome twosome sat in stony silence. Wesker had his head hung lightly. For once in a long time, the small mousy man was dressed like he belonged in the Mob. Tampered Tuxedo, matching bow tie, He's shoes were shined, his glasses sheening with even the littlest movement of his head. A Derby was pulled low on his head making what was left of his white hair curl and twist out from behind his head.

But other then the fine clothes, Wesker didn't look so good. He seemed extra pale, and the air he gave was one of utter despair. Yet it was one that had gone past all amounts of grieving. Like an empty husk.

" Good. " Roman shot ash toward the tray on the Penguin's desk.

Gordon: Skylights were good for eccentric rich gentlemen swinging around on grappling hooks from rooftops in skintight costumes, but not for aging police commissioners. And damn, was the tubing that led up toward that penthouse office hot. But there he was, dedicatedly climbing up the heating system with his trench coat used to wrap his fingers around. He used it to pull himself up from one heated tube to the next, to the next. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up past his elbows.

He gritted his teeth as the cloth slipped, trying not to cry out at the feel of the searing aluminum against his palm. Yeah, I bet Batman would be getting a kick out of this and offer me a big, "I told you so". He drew in a strong silent breath, released it, then went on up further. Who'd have ever thought you'd have to climb up to get to hell.

He finally found a good place to slide in, giving him a barred view of the "trio" through slats of a vent. He slide into the duct that ran along the wall on his stomach, again using his coat to lay on, and came to a rest beside of the small opening. He wiped his brow and looked inside.

So far so good. They're talking about the break-out. Just like Rhino said- his thoughts stopped momentarily as he looked at Wesker. He was dressed so neatly, but it was... wrong. Something about it reminded him of the way a shameful parent would dress their sickly child to take them out in public. It must have been the combination of the proud clothes and look on his face. Was this a cover?

Don't feel sorry for him James. He lied. Gordon covered his mouth to keep from making a hateful noise at himself. He never loved you. Just LISTEN. He wiped a trickle of sweat from the side of his face with his palm and remained quiet.

Wesker: Had Wesker known the commissioner was just feet above his head, it might of been a bit too much for the little guy. In all truth, he didn't want to be here. He'd never wanted to go back to crime. But.. but he'd been betrayed, by the only person, the only man he'd ever loved. There was something in that had completely broken Wesker, allowing Scarface to have complete control again.

" Yah, it's good. " Scarface nashed down on it's cigar and looked as proud as Dummy could. Though secretively, the evil little thing was seething with hate. Scarface didn't want to play second banana to this burnt up wanna-be mob boss. He was just gonna buy his time till he could stab the ugly bastard in the back. Oh such a double-crosser this puppet was. " Gut what concerns me is what the devil yah's got planned to deal with the Gatman. Even if we hit Glack-Gate with every goon in dah city, that fuckin' flyin' rodent ge on us like flies on shit. "

" And that's why you're always ended up back in Arkham, my dear Mr. Scarface. " A third voice entered the conversation as Penguin waddled in through the door. The Top-hatted bird swiveled his cigarette stick under his large nose and peered at the trio in the room through his monocle.

" I've already taken care of such trifle. It's simple really, a earlier heist, twenty minutes before all your muscle is set to hit Black Gate, a few of my fellows are going to knock over the 7th Nation Gotham bank. " Penguin leaned on his umbrella and grinned nasty sharp teeth.

" Soooo a distraction for the Gats. I likes that. Nice goin' gird grain. " Obviously the Dummy didn't like Penguin. The other Villain scowled and twitched his lip.

Wesker sighed. Hard. His chest heaved and he resisted just luring his head to the side and passing out right now. He swallowed down a lump and turned his head toward Scarface. " .. I don't.. think all this is a good idea, Mr. S-Scarface. " His voice was so horse.

Almost every eyeball in the room snapped to Wesker and the room fell silent.

Gordon: James, in the midst of the conversation, reached into his heated coat pocket to pull out a digital tape recorder. He prayed as he hit the record button for the thing to still work, holding his breath, and let out the slightest of sighs as he saw the light turn green. So far so good.

He turned it on in time to hear the part about 7th National.... then he heard Wesker. Not the Wesker he'd gotten used to in their brief time together. Tired and worn, straining like an overplayed record to make words. He raised a voice in protest to some of the greatest criminals in Gotham City. Either Rhino lied and he really is a power player, or maybe in some part of him he's still good. God James! Why can't you just accept it! You've been had!

Above the criminals another recording device was in place, suctioned to the window. It wasn't as simple as Gordon's. The state of the art design could only be afforded by the most exclusive of clientele. That being Wayne enterprises.

Off out of sight of the window, a cowled figure held a screen in his hand, using small game-system type controllers to move the image from figure to figure speaking. He half hoped the sudden silence would lead to the criminals breaking out into an all-out brawl. It would make them easier to take down if they were too busy fighting each other to notice him.

Wesker: The only one in the room that seemed to noticed anything particular going on was Penguin himself. The Aristocrat birdie lifted his head for a moment and his beady black eyes shifted. He shuffled over to his desk and hit something. But the big attention was on Black Mask, who had suddenly come across the room, picked up Wesker by his tuxedo lapels, right out of the fucking seat, and slammed him against the wall.

" You better not be thinking about chickenshitting out on us Ventriloquist! I swear to god I was going to kill you, And if you have another second thought about it, I'll break your spine right here. So help me, If you're not with us, you're dead, yah hear me, dead. "

Wesker just hung there, in the bigger man's grip. Lip was pulled between teeth and he let out a whimper. " Woah, Woah, Woah there smokey-face. Let up on it already. Dummy's not gonna spoil our plans. " Scarface weaseled its way between the two men. The Dummy clanged it's jaws together. " He's justa little whiny since that no good liar copper done did him wrong. "

" Plain, Done DID him. " Black Mask smirked lightly and then just dropped Wesker. He dusted his hands and then reached into his pocket to pull out a lighter. He lit the Dummy's cigar. " I have to hand it to yah, Scarface, Hiding in a cops house, pure genus. "

"Yadda, Yadda. " Scarface shrugged. " And don't yah worry agout Dummy here. " It suddenly yanked a 9 mm from Wesker's tuxedo and pressed it the little man's chin. " He squeals I'll ice em myself. "

" Shut up the lot of you. " Penguin slung his umbrella over his shoulder. " I think it’s best we get moving. Now."

Gordon: Almost, for a glimmer of a second, did Gordon really almost let himself be convinced that something more was going on. "Liar copper" is what Scarface called you. That means he told Wesker you were ly- wait. Hiding out in a cops house. My mistake. He felt that ill feeling fester up from the pits of his stomach again. I trusted you so much. I wouldn't have done that for just any man.

He looked down at the recorder. They hadn't named him, but Montoya would figure it out from his behavior earlier that week. Maybe Bullock too. My god the horror if Bullock figured it out. It made him shudder. Too much of a shudder. The recorder slipped from his fingers and clattered against the metal. FUCK!

A green spike showed in the bottom sound register off the Bat's screen. He scrutinized it, then did a quick replay of the actions of those in the room. No, that sound didn't come from anyone in the room. And it didn't come from him, nor that clattering dummy a moment earlier. It had a metallic register to it. He set his jaw.

Gordon. He'd warned him not to try anything.

The commissioner was already pushing himself backward out the shaft the way he came. Two floors down was another vent he could kick out and make his way out of. He wanted- NEEDED to make it out in one piece. This is one thing that he'd see through.

Wesker: The villains shuffled out of the room, luckily before the clattering of the tape recorder could be heard. Wesker was the last to leave, slowly stepping behind the others. He paused for a moment and even glanced up at the vent. You can't stop thinking about him. He hurt you so much, but you still feel like he could be here, like he could save you. The little guy shook his head and shuffled out of the room.

Unfortunately for Gordon, while the bat had scared off the villains, his presence, even though it had escaped Wesker and Black Mask, had NOT escaped Penguin. The dirty little bird had paused on their way out through the Casino, and had ushered as many goons as he had available to hit the roof.

A thick shadow would suddenly fall on the commissioner as he was backing out of the vent onto the roof. It was one of those heavy things. That you could feel fall on you the second they did. A thick headed goon, let out a growl and slammed the butt of his gun against the back of the Commissioners head.

" Boss was right, looks like I's caught myself a peepin' tom. "


Gordon: The sensation rung in his ears, and he made a half assed effort to reach for his gun before he felt too dizzy to even stand up straight. He turned to look at the goon dizzily before staggering backward. His coat, which he had used to scale the ventilation system, fell from his limp fingers as his feet discovered they no longer had solid ground to hold him up.

Lost Sarah. Barbara raped and paralyzed. Betrayed by Wesker. The pavements of Gotham he started his work flat footing stories below. His eyes rolled up in his head and he didn't even scream. He just let everything go black and the throb in his head melt.

Even without the scream though, the big thug would feel the brush of air as the caped protector swung by him. A hail of bullets started as he swung out of the darkness and dropped like a rock after the falling man. At about mid-building he caught him around the waist and shot his grappling hook toward the next high-rise, safe save for a nice swiss cheese motif to the base of his cape (boy could those goons aim good).

They may have swung out before the Penguins henchmen could tag him and before the criminal trio could emerge, but just in time to meet them the trench flittered in the air and dropped over the windshield of the waiting limo, along with tiny bits of black sinking from the sky like polyester snow.

Wesker: Good Ol Batman. Always there to save the day. Though the cape and cowl would never be able to save the Commissioners heart and mind. But that's what this city did to someone. IT tore them to pieces. What other city in the world had so much corrupting leaking into it's every creak?

The foursome halted to a stop before the limo as the coat and bit and pieces of cape littered to the hood of the car. Penguin let out a huffy " Wauggh! " And snatched the coat off the hood and threw it to the ground.

It landed right at the Ventriloquist's feet. Wesker nearly fell over on himself as he halted completely as to not step upon the item. He stared down at the dirty brown coat and his mouth fell open.

James.. James.. that's James's coat. He was here.. no it couldn't be his... yes.. look you know that coat so well. you clung to it so hard.. it's his coat. Why was he here? Does he want to hurt you even more by arresting you himself and sending you back to Black-Gate. I.. no.. maybe he's trying to help.. no he lied to me. Wesker heard a sob choke right out of his throat.

Scarface chuckled. " Look like we's got a stalker Dummy, Hopefully Penguin's goons took care of him, anit no time for a quickie in the limo no- "

Scarface's voice just cut right off in the middle of what it was saying, because Wesker just suddenly went limp, he utterly and completely fainted. It was just too much. The Dummy clattered to the ground.

Black Mask caught the little guy with one arm and sneered down at him. " What.. the Fuck? "

Penguin snorted himself and climbed into the limo. " He's an utter wuss, just pick up that disgusting hunk of wood and lets get going. We've got company on the rooftops, it's best we make ourselves scarce. " Black Mask nodded and bend down, picked up Scarface by it's shoe and then threw the unconscious due into the limo.

He glared at the rooftops for a moment, puffing cigar smoke and then growled before climbing into the limo. The door was slammed shut and the car took off down the street with a squeal of tires.

~*~

“I warned you.”

It was all the blurry face said as James awoke. But it was enough. He knew immediately what the dark image meant.

“There’s not going to be any stopping you, is there?” Batman stood up. He threw down a map of the city with a building circled in red. “This is Sionis’ new hide-out. Be behind it in three days.”

Gordon sat up, then grabbed his gut with a groan. The catch had left a bruise where he’d caught the nook of Batman’s arm full force. He didn’t realize it until he tried to move. “H-how longs it been?” he asked. His eyes focused enough to see that he was in the room he’d been in before. Papers underneath him had letterhead reading Mulligan Insurance.

“Three hours.” A simple answer, followed by a swish of his cloak as he turned into the shadows.

“What’s the plan?” Gordon groaned, shifting his weight to his knees as he started to get up. Once he finally found his sea legs, he looked around.

The room was empty. Silence answered his question.

“Damn,” he muttered, and walked back to the window. None of the figures in front of the building, though not as clear as though they were being seen through binoculars, were wearing any of the Penguin’s thug attire.
He took the risk of taking the front way out. He was unaware, but the grime on his face and clothes from the filth gathered in the duct and his hair was in wild disarray. He held his stomach and crossed the road slightly hunched. Even if it had been Penguins troops at the door, they wouldn’t have recognized the normally stoic looking commissioner.

Someone had kicked the coat into the gutter. The street sweeper hadn’t had a chance to go by. Gordon leaned down by the gutter to pick up the item.

I hid that horrible monster in this coat.

He watched as muddy gutter water ran down the arm of the coat as he held it up by it’s collar. You hid Arnold in this coat, too.

For a moment he lifted the dry part to his face and pressed it against his eyes. Felt it against his skin. Yes, it had seemed worth it at the time to drape that coat around Arnold’s shoulders. It felt good at the time, to see him pull it around himself and draw comfort from it in his fear.

At the same time, though, he could still feel the weight of Scarface in the crook of his arm, cradled at one time so carefully so he wouldn’t break him. Only to be manipulated and used.

“Buddy, even a bum’s gotta have some class,” the doorman in front of the building spoke up, looking at Gordon hold the coat. “Go to the Salvation Army for God’s Sake! You can do better than that thing.”

Gordon pulled his face back and stared at the coat. He remember those pale fingers clinging so tightly to it, begging for his help. That’s when it slowly slipped from them.

Behind the building. What is Batman’s Plan?

The cloth made a faint sound as it fell to the gutter. “Yeah. Do better,” he mumbled. Maybe I can’t do better. Maybe I just can’t help anyone anymore. I should never have come back to the force. I can’t do anything for anyone anymore.

No, I can do something. I can be at the back of that building in three days. It was his chance to see if everything he’d tried to do all this time was all for naught.

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