8:00 PM in Gotham City.
Usually, by this time, I'd either be in the cave or out on the streets. At least, that's the pattern I familiarised myself with upon taking on this life. But with the recent news of my... firing, as it seems... I've come to the conclusion that my nightly work may not be the best subject to focus on at the moment.
And I didn't come to
that easily, by any means. I don't do that work for myself. I do it for the people of Gotham. But in my attempts to rid the city of it's criminality, or at least minimalise it to a certain degree, I've lost sight of the life that I have to maintain for my own sanity. When I became Batman, I made the promise to both myself and my parents that Bruce Wayne wouldn't cease existence as a result. My family's name had to be carried on for as long as possible, and being the last descendant, that responsibilty fell to me. Even if I didn't feel as if I could ever be Bruce Wayne again... I had to be.
But it's that type of thinking that's gotten me into this mess in the first place. Wayne Enterprises is being handed over to a tyrant... a corperate mongul who represents absolutely nothing my ascestors nor I set out to accomplish with the company's resources. We wanted to make Gotham City a better place. Zeus, more than likely, wants nothing more than the profit. Perhaps even the recognition.
There must be something I can do to show them that they're making a mistake by handing the company's future over to him. But that's where I've fallen short: Proving that I'm the more capable leader. And that must be changed, when I get through this. But until then, I'm only left with few options. None of which I can use with the skills I spent a decade honing to strike out against the criminal element of Gotham.
I wish the world of buisness was even marginally
that simplistic. But no. I have only one weapon of choice in difficult obstacles such as these: Patience. It's what got me through those years abroad, it's what brought me back to Gotham to become it's savior. And it's what I'll use to win my company back. I only pray that I'm not underestimating Zeus, or his buisness practices, by relying on patience. This is going to take more than a matching of wits. This is going to take careful study and observation.
But where do I even start?
I look up from my desk in the study, as Alfred walks into the room. His demeanor is... strange. His posture is indicating something of urgency. And considering I'm across the room from him, and I immediately spotted it, it's as if he's trying to intentionally tell me something without words.
"Alfred?", I ask, curiously.
He clears his throat.
"Do forgive the intrusion, Master Bruce, but it seems you have a visitor.", He states, before stepping aside and allowing the person behind him to enter the room.
"The police."
My eyes widen, for a brief moment, before I stand up from my seat and turn to the individual that just entered. And the moment I do, my pulse races, ever so slightly, as I realise how familar the officer really is.
"Mr. Wayne?", He states, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a badge.
"Captain James Gordon, Gotham City PD. May I have a word with you in private?"
I look over at Alfred, before turning back to Jim.
I can't think of a single reason that he'd be here, of all places, other than a possibility I wouldn't want to face on anyone else's terms but my own. The possibility that somehow, some way, he's deduced that Bruce Wayne and The Batman are one in the same.
But I can't alude to that suspicion, or make it known. Not until I've learned the reason in question. I'll have to play dumb for the moment, and hope that I'm mistaken.
"Of course, Captain.", I say, before turning to Alfred.
"Alfred, run by the inventory of the winery one more time, would you? Hopefully this shouldn't take long."
"Of course, Sir.", He responds, exiting.
I turn back to Gordon, putting on somewhat of a grin to hide my growing nerves.
"Always good to have a helping hand."
He raises an eyebrow.
"I can imagine."
I sit back down, before indicating a seat across from the desk.
"Please. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable."
He shakes his head, passing on the offer.
"Oh, no. That's quite alright, thanks. Hopefully you're right in that this won't take long."
"Very well,", I state, placing my hands together.
"So, then. What can I do for you, Captain?"
He takes out a minaturised notepad and pen from his front pocket. As he does, I begin to feel the sweat on my hands. Damn it. Need to get my mind off of it... I'm guilty of nothing that he isn't, due to our... allieance. This I know. But for all I know, this could be but wasted energy and thought. With any luck, Batman isn't the topic of discussion Gordon seeks here tonight.
"I'll keep this short, as I'm sure we're both on a tight schedule... but earlier this evening, our department uncovered a load of unauthorised imported crates on the Gotham Docks. They all had the Wayne Enteprises seal on them... But I've checked with the workers. The crates weren't listed among those being shipped in with the rest sent to your company, anywhere."
...
The relief of knowing that I was wrong dawns slowly, but surely. But the actual matter itself still intrigues me, abiet slightly, given what Gordon could've been here for.
"I see.", I answer.
"Forgive me for being skeptical, Captain, but why exactly was a police investigation called on this? Couldn't I have been told of this by someone at the company?"
"Were it a simple shipping error, Mr. Wayne, and you probably could've been. But what we found inside the crates isn't exactly a matter to take lightly.", He answers, checking over his notes.
"The crates were filled with currency. All of it was found to be American. And after a quick check, all of it was found to be counterfeit, aswell."
My eyebrow arches as quickly as my curiosity grows.
"Wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?", He asks, looking up from the notes.
Counterfeiting. My company... my
father's company... the company he sacrificed his time and energy into building it from a lower-level industry to one of the city's leading empires... is being used for
criminal operations?
That's where I draw the line. I would've been civil about my termination otherwise, but this has taken it too far. I will not, and refuse to watch as my family's legacy is perverted by the same filth that took their lives.
"I... wish I could say I did, Mr. Gordon, but...", I state, leaning back in my chair.
"I'm afraid that I was recently vetoed out of position in Wayne Enterprises. It's undergoing new management as we speak. So I'm afraid that even if I had known about this prior... which I did not, I assure you... I haven't the power to even authorise such a felony."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Vetoed out? They can do that to a guy as powerful as you?"
I shrug.
"Apparentally so. I guess not everyone in Gotham's a fan of me."
He looks down at his notes, before looking back up at me.
"Well, then. I guess I'm sorry to have disturbed you.", He continues, placing them back into his jacket.
I shake my head.
"No need for any apologies, Captain. You're just doing your job. I understand."
Standing up, we shake hands. I'm almost hesitant, given that this isn't the first time I've done so. And if there's anything I want to avoid in keeping my identity hidden, it's repeating an action I had previously displayed as The Batman in Gordon's prescence. But he doesn't seem to notice anything unusual, or familiar. Which more than likely means that I'm in the clear.
"Sorry about what happened to you.", He says, as he departs.
For a second, I almost think that he's remembered a detail about my past that forged our allieance in the first place: His involvement in the night my parents were murdered. About how he was the same officer that saved me from the gunman. But it's only a passing thought, as I begin to realise that what he really meant was my termination at Wayne Enterprises.
"Your company, I mean.", He continues, stopping at the door.
"I'll be sure to keep in touch if we hear anything. You may not be in power anymore, but the place still has your name on it."
I smirk.
"I'd appreciate that. Thanks."
In seconds, he's left, departing to his car outside after Alfred shows him to the front door. It's in those moments that my smirk immediately fades, thinking about what I've just learned.
Something isn't right about this. Not just in the counterfeiting, but in the timing. It's as if I was fired right before I could've learned anything about it. And I know that there's little chance that it was coiencidental... after all, I may appear to be a spoiled brat to the general public, but they know I have the money and power to take serious action against any foul play.
Alfred re-enters the room, as I collect my thoughts.
"I do hope you've not gotten yourself into an even bigger mess than before."
I throw him a look, before placing my hands together in thought.
"Not exactly. But there's definately a new matter that calls to my attention.", I say, before narrowing my eyes in anger.
"Someone in the company is transporting couterfeit money. And they're using my name to do it."
Alfred raises an eyebrow.
"My word. And the police believe you to be responsible?"
I shake my head.
"I think any suspicion of my involvement passed, when I told Gordon about my termination. But..."
"But you're still concerned."
I look up at him.
"My father made that company what it was, Alfred. I'm not going to let it fall to shame, like the rest of the city has."
"It's understandable, sir.", Alfred replies.
"But I do question whether or not you should be focusing any of your efforts elsewhere. Especially if you hope to re-attain control."
I'm silent, for a moment.
He... brings up a point. Damn it. I had hoped to put everything else on hold... even my nightly work in Gotham, however outrageous and impossible that notion seemed... but if I'm to figure out who's authorised the transportation of that currency, it may mean sacrificing my rightful place as the company's CEO.
Fortunately, however, I have a good idea of where to
start on the currency lead.
"I know that look. Something else is on your mind."
I nod, slightly.
"I find it a little hard to believe that my firing this morning has nothing to do with the import.", I begin.
"Especially given the fact that the board was so immediate to find a replacement for me. It all seems too convieniant."
"And you assume this... Zeus person, has a connection to it all aswell?"
My eyes narrow again.
"Oh, I'd bet my life on it, Alfred.", I say, standing up and walking away from the desk.
"But I can't start making those kind of accusations. Not yet. First, I'll need to aqquire the proper evidence."
"Ah. So I assume that you'll be rounding up a certain pair of tights this evening?", Alfred questions.
"No."
Alfred pauses, as I turn around to face him.
"No, sir?"
"This isn't a case for The Batman, Alfred. He exists to serve Gotham above himself. Right now, this is a personal matter. And I can't afford to exert his efforts towards aiding Bruce Wayne. That'd be too compromising."
I cross my arms.
"Besides. I know exactly where I'm going to start. And it's a place that Bruce Wayne wouldn't even need an excuse to attend."
Maxmillion Zeus is, aside from my apparent replacement, the owner of a worldwidely recognised chain of notoriously luxourious Greekly cultured Casinos. And it just so happens that Gotham is home to one of his most successful in the country. He's sure make an appearance, given that he's flying into the city tommorow morning to negotiate the Wayne Enterprises position.
Guess I'll need to revisit my poker skills...
NEXT: Gotham Royale
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