Gotham or Bust

[Susanna Gossamer]

The night sky was inky black, stars blocked by clouds or smog or city lights. The large spotlights of the large dock cut stubbornly but not brilliantly through the darkness like a rusty razor, leaving a dome of pitch weighing heavily overhead. It was a good thing she wasn't claustrophobic, though Detective Susanna Gossamer. The smell of the stale, unclean ocean and the overpowering scent of wet metal filled her nostrils from her place literally stowed away between two train-car-like bins on the far end of the dock. She sipped at the tall cup of coffee she had brought with her to keep herself awake and warm despite the wet, chilly sea wind slicing through her bullet proof vest. She was poised and ready, not unlike the stakeouts she had been on before, except this time she was very far out of her element (and if she screwed up, she was out of her job as well.)

It was her father who had really pulled it off. She had debated telling the full details - she had no reason not to tell her father except that then the power of decision making would no longer be her own - but at the last decided against it. She claimed she had been given the tip while investigating a drug related murder and wanted in on the bust out of curiosity's sake, and to see if it was in any way related to her own case. It was a fabricated lie, but it got the job done and with very little inconvenience to herself. She had only arranged one part of the operation herself, and only time would tell if it was a smart move. She still hadn't made up her mind about this Batguy, and she didn't like feeling like she could be caught offguard.

So now they were all lying in wait, tensed up like a mouse trap ready to spring. With a twenty million dollar piece of cheese waiting for them, she was certain that if there was a deal going down, the involved bidders would not be keen to back down. If something was happening on West dock that evening, they would be there waiting.

Checking her firearm for the hundredth time that evening, and then double-checking the signal on her radio, Susie did the only thing she could do and tried (tried) to be patient. She inhaled deeply and then blew out a long exhale. This was going to be... interesting.

[Bruce Wayne]

The stench of the sea and something not quite right assaulted Batman's nostrils as he sat, hunched and watching from his vantage point. It was five to 12 and so far the coast was clear. Nothing and no one had stirred along the docks aside from the police stationed there, and they were sufficiently hidden so as not to have tipped off the crooks he had heard would be wheeling and dealing this evening. It was another day at the office, and there was a copier jam.

He uncharacteristically swore in frustration. He had delivered these guys to Gossamer on a plate, and when he'd gone to reveal the cream, there was none. Any hope for an alliance in her was now gone, and it would take even longer to get back on his horse. So frustrated that he could have screamed, Batman settled for gritting his teeth behind his tightly sealed lips. It was all he could do to prevent himself from slipping into madness.

At ten past, just as he was about to give up hope, a low-slung black Cadillac turned a corner into the docklands. Its lights immediately died, and it swooped through the unlit area like a vulture falling on a fresh carcass. On the water a black speedboat buzzed to the docks, so inconspicuous given the darkness out on the water that if the hum of its engine hadn't given it away it might well have gone unnoticed. That is, if there hadn't been a team of cops and one pissed-off outlaw waiting for it.

A thickly set man in a heavy woolen trench extricated himself from the caddy, walking with the undeniable hobble of one of the city's mob bosses. His bald head shone in the sickly moonlight, and he held both arms out in a show of good faith as he approached the mooring vessel. He carried four red duffel bags. The men aboard the boat, both of them dressed in black from head to foot, expertly tied a single hawser and pulled the boat closer to the jetty.

"What took you so long?" one of them called to the man walking across the bitumen. "We've been cruising the bay for 20 minutes!"

"Wanted to make sure that if anything was gonna go wrong, I wouldn't be here to see it," the fat man replied a tad anxiously. "We got ourselves a snitch. I didn't know if he knew about tonight or not."

"So why the hell didn't you call it off?" the other man in the boat, a tad taller, asked in a rasping voice. "It's better to play it safe when you're talking big clams."

"You got your instructions, and I got mine," the mobster replied.

"Yeah? Who's giving orders to you, Paccini?"

"I don't got time for no pleasantries," Paccini snapped. "Let's do this." The men in the boat each hefted two black duffels, tossing them onto the dock. Paccini looked annoyed.

"And the other two?" he inquired.

"Toss us half the money first!" the smaller man asserted. "We know how you roll, Paccini." Begrudgingly, two red duffels were tossed to the men on the boat, one after the other. There was a pause.

"Throw me the rest of the stuff!" Paccini demanded. The taller man in the boat whipped out a glock and aimed. Two shots. One hit Paccini in the knee. He hit the bitumen like a sack of potatoes.

"Shit!" the man in the boat exclaimed. The answering shot was immediate. Though Paccini had been ordered to come alone, there was at least one sniper in the caddy. A rifle shot echoed across the docks. It missed its target, and both men in the boat hit the deck.

Batman's eyes flew to the cops, waiting to see how they would handle the blow-out.

[Susanna Gossamer]

Her radio crackled lightly and a familiar, low rumble of a voice came over the speaker. She held it up to her ear to listen. "We have movement..." Setting the remains of her coffee onto the metal floor beneath her, Susie unholstered her weapon and walked carefully to the corner of her hiding spot, peeking carefully around the corner to see the approach of the caddy. She adjusted her patent police-style grip on her weapon and looked over her shoulder at the three other officers who were waiting with her, nodding her head to signal that they would soon be making their move. She then went back to watching, and waiting, but without being able to hear the conversation taking place about forty yards away from her, she hand no warning about the violence that was about to take place. When two shots rang out, she did what any trained professional did and hissed through her teeth, stepped back behind her cover, and reached for her radio clip on her shoulder.

"Shots fired, suspect down," she informed the rest of the department, and she knew somewhere back up was being set in motion. She motioned at the police with her and began to run, lowered into a bend with gun pointed to the ground, towards the scene of the crime, not yet revealing herself though she knew instinctively like an internal clock was ticking down how long it would be before back up arrived and all hell broke loose. When her small flock reached a break in their cover she raised her weapon, the other three cops immediately following suit, and saw several more officers to her left doing the same. At the exact same moment police cars from two different directions arrived and blocked the Cadilllac's escape route, police jumping out from their doors and using them as cover, aiming over the tops.

"Gotham P. D. Drop your weapons!" Susie shouted with strength, flipping off her safety with a flick of her thumb. "Drop your weapons!" she repeated , aiming the barrel of her pistol at the boat, and then swinging to the Cadillac. Her expressive brown eyes peered sharply through the night for any movement, her senses keen for any threat and aware of all surrounding cover that might save her in a volley of gunfire.

[Bruce Wayne]

While the mobster rolled around on the ground clutching his shattered knee and the two clowns in the boat were laying low, Batman was content to simply watch. To inject himself into the thick of the action when the PD had it completely under control would be madness; they were just as keen on catching him as they were in getting any drug dealer – if not more interested. His eyes followed the duckling trail of the police as they wove through the shelter offered and he concentrated on the slightly red hair he could see below, almost black in the lack of light. She was here. It wasn’t until her attention swiveled from the boat to the caddy, drawing his with it, that he doubled his eyes back to the boat. One of the men was now on his feet and taking aim. With a grunt of effort Batman hoisted himself from the crouched position he had employed for the better part of an hour. He soared through the air, his wings snapping into formation as soon as they had enough resistance beneath them to warrant the action. He raised his arms above his head to slow his fall and he streamlined himself for the boat.

“It’s the Bat Man!” one of the cops shouted, swinging his gun to follow the new target. Easily distracted, several of the others followed suit. One nervous finger squeezed a trigger. The gunshot cracked in the air like gum being popped, and once one of them had opened fire the chain reaction was inevitable. Bullets ricocheted off of his batsuit with ease and the Bruce hiding inside the Bat closed his eyes for a minute until his feet hit the prow of the speedboat. The boat dipped into the water dangerously, knocking the man who was standing back onto his backside again. He snapped off a round pointed right at Batman’s chest. The bullet glinted off of the Kevlar, and the caped creature advanced menacingly. Before he could shoot again, Batman closed his fist over the man’s gun hand and tightened his fist. He dodged another PD bullet. Knuckles popped and cracked under the brutal grip and finally Batman relented only to bring his fist crashing back into the man’s head. He was knocked out and fell over to join his partner, who had hit his head on something earlier. When satisfied that both men were sufficiently unconscious, he began to tie them up with the hawser line.

A cop was boarding the vessel. Aiming a lock kick, he sunk the steel cap of his boot into a tender place in Batman’s rib cage. The Bat grunted again and stood, wanting to intimidate enough to warn away this ‘do-gooder’. The cop was not to be dissuaded. Another kick was swung and allowed to hit home. Batman doubled over slightly, but showed not further injury than that. He was determined to show these people once and for all that he was on their side; that he was fighting for good and not the evil that infested Gotham like a plague. Three times in quick succession the cop drew back his fist and hammered it into the part of Batman’s face not protected by the heavy duty mask. After the third smack, a small trickle of blood curled from Batman’s lip. He straightened just as the rookie was scrambling for his piece.

[Susanna Gossamer]

that a few of her fellows had come to their senses and were backing her up. The car units swarmed the Cadillac, preparing for a standoff that was likely to be of some duration. Now that other people were doing their jobs now she could turn to hers: protecting the citizens of Gotham, even the really fucking weird ones.

With a glance over her shoulder, she caught sight of the Bat Man in a struggle with one of the very same cops who was supposed to be under her watch. She growled beneath her breath at the insubordination, lack of professionalism, failure to follow orders, but quite unable to rant and rave about it now - though she certainly would later - she rushed to keep the buffoon from doing anything even stupider. She had every intention of exercising her right of higher rank policewoman to set the idiot straight, but upon boarding the boat she quickly realized she didn't actually have the time. He had laid a hand on his handgun and flipped off the safety, and though she had no doubt the Bat guy could protect himself she would rather he didn't have to. Without many options to consider she grappled her fellow officer's arm from behind, bent it out to the side and out of harm's way, and in a single motion jerked her elbow back into the side of his head knocking him unconscious. The instinctual action was completed in about a second, and when it was done she could do little more than stare at her fallen comrade with an expression of surprise at herself.

"Oh shit!"

[Bruce Wayne]

“It’s not his fault,” the caped man readily acknowledged in his abrasive, deep voice even as he crouched to inspect the fallen officer. He would have a little bump on the back of the head but be generally no worse for wear; Bruce had endured more bumps of this kind than he would care to admit and her was still standing. His eyes were then raised to examine the Detective who had rushed the boat in chase of her insubordinate colleague. His pupils dilated then retracted to tiny dots as the beam of a police helicopter stabbed at his from directly above Susanna in his line of vision. For a moment he was fully exposed, vulnerable in the piercing light that stunned his eyes into paralysis when he was so used to the darkness.

He turned his head away and blinked several times, trying to rid himself of the blaring whiteness behind his lids. “Lower your weapons!” a disembodied voice from the chopper commanded. Even now the men in the Cadillac were being apprehended, cuffed, and transported into waiting squad cars. Forensics was on the scene, and Major Crime were apprehending the duffel bags. He blinked again until the light was bearable and then he stood, towering over her easily though it might not have seemed that way to anyone watching; Susanna’s self-assured stance and ability to stand her ground was a match for real height any day.

The helicopter did a sweep of the area, moving on to get footage of the criminals being taken into custody and to provide aerial back-up if needed, not that it was. The show was over. Confident that he had been glossed over enough, Batman ran his hands over his belt. Everything was present and accounted for. It was only as he moved his left arm out a little too far to the side that he realized his armpit was sticky, and only with another centimeter of movement that his fear was confirmed.

He had been shot. In the heat of the moment and with so much adrenaline pumping he hadn’t noticed the projectile slipping between the plates of his armor. That was going to hurt when he got home. He preferred to attend to most of his wounds before Alfred could see them and worry over the sad state of his medical health, but he was left handed and there was no way he was going to be able to dig this one out alone. Gingerly, he dropped his arm to his side as quickly as he could. He didn’t want Gossamer picking up on his injury and insisting he be admitted to Gotham General. Pursing his lips in the awkward silence, he met the dependability of her eyes.

“At least now I know I can trust you." He offered her a tight smile. "Thanks, Susanna.”

[Susanna Gossamer]

Anger had given way to surprise at herself, and her quick mind began to make up a story about someone else attacking the cop - the two guys knocked out on the boat would do - lest she be suspended indefinitely for attacking a fellow to save a... well, him. She watched him check the man over while her mind whirred, and was as satisfied as he was that the man would be fine. After all, she knew exactly how hard she had hit him.

She watched him check himself over for holes and it struck her why people were so dumbstruck with fear over the guy. She had seen footage on the news, of course, but seeing him in action was another thing entirely. By all rights, he should be dead, and yet here he stood. The acknowledgement of a wound relieved her in a strange way. So he was human. Or at least, he wasn't indestructible. Whether he was human or not seemed still up for debate, and likely would be so long as he lived and breathed in Gotham City. She met his gaze as he met hers, expression cognizant and equal.

In any other instance, she might have taken offense to the tone of mild surprise in the revelation that he could, after all, trust her, but under the circumstances it actually just reminded her of the part of this whole shendig she had actually taken it upon herself to prepare. "Um - yeah - about that..." she began, glancing away from his eyes and looking over the two suspects in the floor of the boat. "Can I suggest you find some other way to get out of here? It might be kind of tricky to get past the dock entrance at present..." She met his eyes again at last and shrugged her shoulders in an expression of apology. Hey, a cop's gotta do what a cop's gotta do, right?

At just that moment, the officer at her feet began to stir with a groan, and she knelt immediately to help the man sit up. By the time she raised her brown eyes again, the man in black, whoever he was, was no where to be found.