It's always dark in Gotham.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Rupert Thorne is sweating. This is outside his norm, and he knows it.

The choice of a funeral parlor for making these weapons deals felt like imaginative thinking at first, which was necessary, since the goddamned Batman has been making it his personal mission to never let a businessman get a moment's sleep.

Now, though, he's nervous. Wondering whether or not the choice of location was actually a sad irony.

Still, he has to remain smooth and in control, despite the fact that his pulse is racing.

The cigar helps. Always does. This isn't something he'd handle personally, usually, but he'll be damned if the Bat hasn't gotten him edgy. First guy to call it paranoid gets the cigar in the eye.

He doesn't like to be kept waiting, either.

Finally, though, the caskets roll in, which means they can get this done. Before the Bat shows.

"It's about time."

Comments

[aknightdarkly.livejournal.com]

Suddenly, a Batarang flies out from inside, cracking against Thorne's hands and forcing him to drop the automatic weapon... and the man on all fours is suddenly being strangled with a cable.

A growl is all that's discernible.

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

Montoya has just enough time to unceremoniously drag Alcana behind the car for cover. When she peers up over the roof...

What the fuck?! Batman and a garrot?

She levels her sidearm. At the Gotham's protector. "GCPD! Let him go!"

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Thorne spins on his heels, eyes wide in terror.

"The COPS?! Who brought the fucking COPS?!"

Suddenly, another semiautomatic is drawn from his coat, and leveled right at Montoya.

Shaking just a little. "BACK OFF, COP!"

[aknightdarkly.livejournal.com]

Batman hides his own surprise at this development.

Instead, he lets the thug he's strangling go, and swoops in behind Thorne.

Not laying a hand on him, or so it seems from the angle, as he's hidden behind his corpulent frame.

Something is possibly said. Maybe. The Bat isn't known for clarity.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Thorne's face tightens as the Bat moves away from him again... and suddenly, he turns his gun on the man on all fours... and proceeds to shoot him right in the head, in one swift movement.

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

Thorne's sudden movement gets an immediate response. A double tap from Montoya's Glock. Their target? Center of mass. They hit Thorne in the chest.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

The fat man drops like a sack of potatoes as blood explodes from his chest.

Splattering onto the Bat.

[aknightdarkly.livejournal.com]

The Bat just looms, cape drawn still over his shadowed form.

Eyes fixed on the detective.

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

She doesn't move. Her eyes and her Glock are now on Batman.

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Sonia watches the scene unfold. She's holding her breath. There's blood in her mouth from her biting the inside of her lip - a nervous habit.

She watches Thorne go down with an odd sort of intensity.

She can't bring herself to feel any concern for his life.

[aknightdarkly.livejournal.com]

The Bat just glares back for a long, silent moment.

Until his hands open up, arms spreading out, and she'll see they're empty.

Then, something that might be a grin on his face.

"Nice shot."

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

... the hell?

There are certain things she's come to expect from Batman. Sticking around long enough to chat? Not on the list. A compliment on the use of deadly force? Every hair on the back of her neck is standing on edge.

"Keep your hands where I can see 'um!"

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Yeah, that's not right. And Sonia would know; she did stalk and impersonate the guy, after all.

But her eyes are on Thorne.

[aknightdarkly.livejournal.com]

Thorne... who gets kicked by the Dark Knight, in the midst of that fluttering cape move he does when spinning away from pursuers.

As he darts back into the funeral parlor, the voice can be heard.

"Justice is served!"

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

Oh hell no. This isn't the real deal and she knows it. She's around the tail end of the crown vic and giving chase before he's fully out of view.

Somewhere in the back of her brain, she's hoping Alcana has the good sense to stay behind cover. And call for an ambulance.

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Alcana does have good sense. And really, her chasing after Batman - any Batman - is probably not a good idea.

She's got her phone out. Dialing 911.

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Everyone else at the scene of the crime is out cold, bones shattered in several places. Some will never walk again.

One will never breathe again - the head wound bleeding profusely from Thorne's bullet.

Thorne himself... his eyes are still open. He's still moving.

His head turns, focusing on the two women in sight.

Alcana. Shoulda killed that bitch months ago.

That's the only rage he can muster. Sweating profusely and breathing labored, all he can feel is fear. Sheer terror that this is the end.

It can't END like this...

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Sonia keeps her eyes on him. Hard for her to look away, really, even as she gives the address to the dispatcher on the phone.

Her expression is hard. She hopes he's scared. Scared for his life. Whether or not he dies, she hopes he understands what that's like.

[det-montoya.livejournal.com]

Montoya disappears into the funeral parlor in pursuit of the fake. She keeps the Glock out front and ready. Is it going to do her much good against her assailant? The knot forming in her stomach says no. Where the fuck is my back up?

She has no clue she's about ready to walk into the middle of a showdown.