Dead Drop

[seriouslyevil.livejournal.com]

Normally, when Roman wanted to schedule an appointment with someone, he usually carved the date, time, and place of the meeting onto the corpse of a loved one/associate. Unfortunately, he had to be a bit more subtle. With Brucey's weak stomach, he'd probably vomit all over the corpse, pass out, then someone would come in and find one of the models he dated dead and draped across his desk, the cops would get involved, and things would get messy.

Well, messier.

So, this time he had to be just a touch more subtle, which was kind of annoying since he really really wanted to burn part of Gotham to ground after The Batman had barged in unexpectedly and given him a rather sound beating.

Bastard.

At least he had the Albanians to take his rage out on. Over the last month, he had quite emphatically squashed the small group, and taken over their operations in the north east. And lucky for him, he knew a place that was great for rounding up women that he could then sell to the highest bidder. Perhaps he'll shelve those plans to destroy Selina's shelter after all...

But back to Bruce, who was simply left a cellphone on his desk at work. It's previous owner wouldn't be needing it anyway, poor girl. But, later that night, Bruce would get a call on that phone, with a recording telling him where to bring the money that night.

And currently at that location, a rather run down mill in a long since abandoned industrial complex, the Black Mask was waiting.

Don't be late, Bruce.

Comments

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

One thing Roman's got a lot of, and that's hired muscle that's too dumb to ask a lot of questions - just lift a gun and shoot. But it's hard to shoot a moving target, and he's been doing this kind of thing since before he hit his teens.

Bullets ricochet off the Ducati's custom armor plating, and goons drop like stones in the wake of taser 'rangs, blows from his escrima sticks, and the squealing of tires adds to the chaotic din echoing around the old warehouse.

He spots Riddler trying to get his attention, and though it takes a few more moments of concerted effort, he strikes a clearing through the remaining throng, pulling the bike up between the prostrate man, Nygma, and the line of direct fire.

It's hard not to react as he dismounts with haste to assess Bruce's condition, but there's no time right now to panic.

Christ, that's a lot of blood.

"I've got him," he says, reluctant to entrust the man's care to someone he spent a great deal of his youth turning in.

[eddie-nygma.livejournal.com]

"If you can tell me how to stop the bleeding, I can take care of him while you do what you do best."

His voice drops to an undertone.

"I mean, he must have this sort of thing happen all the time, I know I've winged him a few times myself. Do you people employ a full-time trauma surgeon?"

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

His look, to his credit, is only faintly incredulous, with a barest hint of 'why do you give a damn.'

"He doesn't do site visits," he says bluntly, turning the unconscious man's head. Ah. No entry wound. Good news, but as with all head wounds, plenty of blood. He doesn't have time to argue. Staying low and reaching to his bike, he grabs a medical kit and tosses it to him. "Keep pressure on the wound with the gauze in here. Don't move him until it's stopped, then wrap it and get him in the car - back seat, keep him lying down."

He moves reflexively to shield them as another spray of bullets passes overhead. Shame about that Lamborghini's paint job.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

And by the way, Nygma, try not to give yourself a hernia moving the dead weight in your arms, the one that's bleeding all over that hideous suit you're sporting.

[eddie-nygma.livejournal.com]

Nygma unwraps the gauze from the medical kit and applies some pressure - though he's not so sure about that not-moving part, if the firefight gets any heavier.

"Alright, Boy Wonder. I'd say Selina, Harvey and Jonathan can handle Roman - we're hoping he ends up in Arkham to see how the other half lives, but with 'Bruce' so badly injured, my plan for the denouement of this little charade is up in smoke."

He glances to Nightwing.

"I don't need to tell you your job. I've seen you do it plenty of times."

Nygma's suit will be ruined, blast it all, but the sheer amount of blood he'll be wearing will be a good excuse to get Query and Echo in their matching green and purple nurse uniforms, anyway.

[-nightwing-.livejournal.com]

With Bruce out to the world, his ice-laden look will have to suffice before he gets back on his motorcycle and accelerates off back into the mob.