Detective Comics

*Note: This issue takes place after Batman #18*

“Godammit!!!”

Commissioner James Gordon slammed the phone receiver down on his desk in a rage so hard it nearly went through the desk. He then ran his fingers through his thick, gray hair and took his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He sighed long and loud and rested back deep into his chair.

“Godammit…” he muttered quietly, to himself.

He had just gotten off the phone with Benjamin Redd’s mother. Redd was a talented, intelligent, good cop who had only been in the Gotham City Police Department for a few days, when he was shot dead. Gordon tried to reassure the boy’s mother that her son had died a hero, and that the G.C.P.D. would pay for any funeral expenses, and that he had known that her son would have gone on to become a credit to the force. Of course, Gordon didn’t want to tell her the truth, that her son had died after being caught unawares when a group of scumbags ambushed the G.C.P.D. Gordon didn’t want to tell Redd’s mother that he had died in the Gotham City streets in Detective Romy Chandler’s arms, a woman he barely knew, who, in fact, was the only cop in the precinct who had paid any attention to him since he had arrived. Gordon mostly didn’t want to tell Redd’s mother that her sons death was his fault. If he had planned the hostage negotiation situation better, and had his team properly scouted the area and tapped the phone lines, then he would have known about the ambush. He could’ve went into it with more care, rather than just racing in without knowing what the hell was going on.

Gordon felt ashamed that he knew nothing about Benjamin Redd, and had made no attempt to get to know the boy in his short tenure in the G.C.P.D. He wouldn’t even have known the boys name.

Gordon shook his head in anger and disgust at himself, and picked his coffee mug off the desk. He looked at the cup, with the custom made logo ‘World’s Best Commissioner’, that Renee Montoya had persuaded the department to buy Gordon for his birthday. He wanted to vomit in disgust.

He took a long drink from the coffee mug until it was dry. He was about to get out of his seat to brew another pot when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

The door opened and a tall, gangly and slightly awkward man with short blonde hair walked in. Gordon recognized him as Officer Enark, though for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the man’s first name.

“Commissioner?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I’ve just been, uh, looking over the, uh, funeral arrangements for Mr…uh, I mean, Officer Redd. I think I’ve come up with the, uh, what I, er, expect the funeral to cost the department…sir.”

Gordon had wanted to get the funeral arrangements done as soon as possible, and the morning after the incident seemed like a good time.

“Thank you, son. Let’s have a look.”

Officer Enark handed the report over to Gordon with a trembling hand. Enark was an incredibly nervous, fidgety man, but Gordon could forgive it this morning, because it was so soon after the…incident.

“Hmmmm….seems about right.” said Gordon as he looked over the details. “Good work.”

“Th-thank you, sir.”

Gordon nodded. “Anything else?”

“Um, yes, I see that your coffee mug is empty. Would you like me to brew you another pot?”

Gordon smiled weakly. “You know, son, you’re not just here to make me coffee.”

Enark fidgeted awkwardly. “I know, sir, but…”

“But considering you asked so nicely, go ahead. It’ll be greatly appreciated.”

Enark nodded. “I’ll do that right, uh, now, sir.”

Enark was about to leave the room when Gordon motioned for him to stop. Gordon was still angry and upset with himself that he knew nothing about Benjamin Redd before he died. But not this time.

“Son, I don’t think I’ve asked you this before. What’s your name?”

“It’s Saul, sir. Saul Enark.”

Gordon nodded and smiled, and Enark left the room.

Saul Enark. What a name.

Detective’s Renee Montoya, Marcus Driver and Romy Chandler sat in the break room in the G.C.P.D. Montoya had figured that they deserved a short break after all the crap that’d been going on.

Renee took a long gulp of her coffee. Driver sat, occasionally taking sips of his, while Romy was lying across three chairs moved together in a make shift bed. She began to speak, but it more like her thinking out loud than really addressing someone in particular.

“You know, Rook was a good kid. Only knew him for a couple days but, you know, I could tell.”

Renee nodded. “Yeah, I never really spoke with him, but he seemed nice. Still, regardless of whether I knew him or not, no one deserves that.”

Driver clenched his right fist. “I’m fucking pissed we blew the fucking operation. That kid didn’t have to die, it was our fault.”

There was a palpable moment of silence between the three. Tension hung in the air. Romy broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Christ, if only we weren’t so short staffed at the moment…we could’ve taken today off. Paid our respects to his family.”

“Do you even know who his family are? Have you met any of them?” asked Driver accusingly, before taking a gulp of coffee.

Romy sat up and stared hard at Driver for a moment. “No, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t tell them how sorry I am.”

Driver glared at Romy. “It’s our fucking fault the kid’s dead, and you want to go visit his family? Like you were his friend? Christ, Romy, that’s fucked up.”

Romy looked shocked. Driver wasn’t usually like this.

“What’s your goddamn problem, Marcus? I liked the kid and I’m angry and I’m sad that he had to die. Yes, we approached the sting wrong, but for Gods sake, it was a mistake. A mistake that we will address. I just wanted to pay my respects.”

Montoya could sense the building tension. She finished off her coffee and stood up. “Come on, back to work. Those prison escapees aren’t going to arrest themselves.”

Driver stood up quickly and walked out of the room, slamming the door. Romy shook her head in despair.

“I don’t understand it, Renee. Why would he be like this? He knows it’s hurting us, so he doesn’t need to rub it in.”

Renee sat down beside Romy. “I guess this is just how Driver deals with stuff. I wouldn’t pay too much attention. He’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Romy nodded. “I suppose…God, I wish I wasn’t so tired…I need a rest.”

Renee agreed. “Me too, but come on, Gordon’s getting some people in from Bludhaven to help out. We just need to weather this storm.”

Romy smiled at Montoya. “You always were the reasonable one, Renee. Thanks.”

Montoya stood up and went for the door. “No sweat. Now where’s that Enark guy, I need some refueling.” she said, shaking her coffee mug.

Romy laughed.

SCREEEEEECCCCHHHH!!!!!

The Batmobile’s tires screeched against the road as Batman quickly spun the wheel to the right. He was in pursuit of a gang of Blackgate escapees who had high-jacked a school bus. Yes, that’s right, a school bus. The inmates of Blackgate weren’t exactly known for their intellects.

The bus sped down the street full throttle, battering through anything in its way, including cars, lamp posts, mail boxes, and much to Batman’s fury, people. So far, miraculously, no one had been seriously hurt, and Batman knew he had to end this soon before someone was.

“Oracle, are there any police in the area?” asked Batman into the earpiece inside his cowl.

Barbara Gordon .aka. Oracle, Batman’s invaluable information source and computer expert, sounded in Batman’s ear. “No such luck, B. I can have a road block set up in a couple of minutes, at the corner of Robinson Street south. I’ve got all available units busting their asses to get over there, but you know what the situation’s like at the moment. We’ll be lucky if there’s even two cars.”

“Right, as soon as possible. I’ll have to improvise until then.”

Batman tore the Batmobile round a corner, gaining on the school bus. He had been able to nearly catch up with the bus about five minutes after the criminals had robbed a bank and used it as a getaway vehicle. Batman thanked the lord that it was only the bus driver who had stopped off outside the bank, and that there were no children on board. Small mercies.

“Bad news, B.” Oracle’s voice crackled in Batman’s ear. “Those police cars are going to be six, maybe seven minutes.”

Batman grimaced. “Fine. Batman out.”

Batman ended the link and felt his anger rising. The driver was getting more and more erratic, and he was no longer driving in a straight line. He was colliding with everything possible. People screamed in fear and shock as they desperately tried to get out of the way. Batman had to do something right this instant.

Finally, he managed to catch up alongside the bus, and he put the Batmobile on autopilot. The roof slid back and the cold air whipped by him. He struggled against the current and managed to stand up.

One of the criminals, who was manning the door of the bus, began screaming something at his accomplices, and withdrew a handgun. The doors of the bus opened and Batman could see him smile as he opened fire.

Batman managed to dodge the first two shots, as they ripped into the interior of the Batmobile, before he hurled a few gas pellets in through the door of the bus. They exploded and blinded the criminals vision, and his next three shots were far off target. Batman shot a line and it caught on to the bus.

He then leapt from the speeding Batmobile and was inside the bus door in an instant. He quickly disarmed the criminal who had been shooting at him, and a jab to the solar plexus sent him to the floor gasping for air. The driver of the bus then drew a gun on Batman, who knew he couldn’t hit the driver for fear of the bus veering out of control.

He leapt out of the way of the shots and rolled down the runway of the bus towards the third and final criminal, launching a batarang at his head before he could draw his gun. The batarang struck the man between the eyes and he was unconscious before he even hit the floor.

Batman sprung to his feet with the agility of a cat and narrowly avoided a bullet, which whizzed past his shoulder and shattered the back window of the bus. The driver pulled the trigger several more times but no bullets came, just clicks. His eyes went wide in fear and he turned round and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The sudden acceleration surprised Batman and he fell backwards, rolling down the runaway of the bus. He struck the back of the bus with a thud and was on his feet again in seconds. Batman began to slowly make his way up the runway.

“Stop this bus right now.”

The driver looked round momentarily, fear in his eyes, and laughed nervously. “Fuck you, bat, I’m not going to jail!!!”

“Would you rather have the alternative?” asked Batman, nearly at the front of the bus.

The driver’s eyes went maniacally wide and he smiled. Batman was an instant too late in figuring out his next action, and it cost him.

“Fine. I’ll stop the bus.”

The driver slammed on the breaks of the bus, and the tires screeched as the bus came to an incredibly quick halt.

“No!”

Batman was thrown off his feet and he went crashing head first through the windshield of the bus, closely followed by the driver, and they both hit the cold, hard pavement outside, their bodies rolling over and crunching shards of glass.

There was a moment of dead silence as both men lay motionless. Batman could vaguely hear, in the very dark recesses of his mind, police sirens in the distance. After a few moments, Batman stirred and managed to roll over onto his stomach. He grimaced as the familiar pain of a dislocated shoulder affected him, and he spat a broken tooth out of his blood filled mouth.

The criminal groaned and began to stir. Batman slowly began to drag his body over the glass towards the criminal. Before the criminal could regain full conciousness, Batman smashed his jaw with a sucker punch, before rolling onto his back and waiting for the police cars.

It could’ve been worse.

Later That Night

Commissioner James Gordon sat in his office, trying to make sense of a report that had been given to him by Renee Montoya. For some reason, he just couldn’t seem to concentrate, or make sense of the words, and it was becoming quite a chore. He sighed and leant back in his chair, stretching his legs. As he picked his coffee mug off the table, he sensed a presence in the room with him.

“How long have you been here?” asked Gordon to the shadows.

Batman stepped out of the shadows at the opposite end of Gordon’s room. “A couple of minutes. Not long.”

Gordon nodded his head and motioned for Batman to come closer. Batman obliged, moving gingerly towards Gordon’s desk. He had his right arm held up by his side in a makeshift sling and Gordon could tell he was in pain by the small, careful and pained steps he was taking.

“Rough night?”

Batman nodded. “Very. I’ll live, though.”

“That’s good news, I suppose.”

Gordon went back to reading the report, and therefore didn’t see the slightly confused look on Batman’s face.

“It was a group of Blackgate escapees. They high jacked a school bus. I had to bring them down.”

Gordon nodded, still not looking up. “Yes, and I suppose half of Gotham City was destroyed in the process.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I take it you weren’t able to find a quiet way of bringing these perps in? How much damage could’ve been avoided?”

Gordon looked up at Batman, whose eyes had narrowed.

“I did what I had to do, Jim, and I avoided civilian casualties. Like always.”

“Thank God for that. Is that all you needed? Can I get back to my report now?”

Batman moved closer to the desk. “Jim, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Are you finished?”

“Jim, I –“

Suddenly, Gordon shot up from his chair, slammed his hands on the desk and stared straight into Batman’s eyes. There was a furious anger simmering beneath his skin.

“You do what you have to do to get results. More often than not, that results in tremendous damage to Gotham City, property damage or otherwise. I, on the other hand, am trying to solve the problems in this city in a more measured and thought out way.”

Batman was visibly taken aback. “Jim, you’ve never been like this before, what’s wrong?”

Gordon slowly sat back down, never once taking his stare away from Batman. “Don’t call me Jim. It’s Commissioner Gordon. Now get out, I have work to do.”

Batman narrowed his eyes and stared at Gordon for a moment. He then broke the stare and strode purposefully toward the window. Before he leapt out the window, he looked round at Gordon.

“Give my regards to Benjamin Redd’s family.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Gordon alone in the dark.

The End...

Previous Issue | Next Issue