CHAPTER 4: "What New Evidence?!?"

"Shoot him!" A Blackwater gangster shouted, right before taking a flying collapsable chair directly to the face. Blood spurted from his face and a scream erupted. The attack caused him to crash into some of the warehouse's crates, hard enough to even crack the wood of the crates.

'And here's to you, Missus Robinson...'

Another gangster ran over to his comrade and began to drag him into cover. He got close to hiding behind the crates before a barrel was flung hitting him in the head and creating a comical clanging noise as it undoubtedly cracked his skull.

'Jesus loves you more than you will know... whoa whoa whoa...'

Seeing their partners being hit by floating and flying objects a few of the still-standing gangsters began opening fire with their pistols and shotguns. One though, after seeing the beatdown decided to cut his losses and make a run for it.

'God bless you, please, Missus Robinson... Heaven holds a place for those who pray'

The wise gangster who decided to make a run suddenly felt a blast of air that caused screams from his partners shooting and him getting flung straight through the bathroom doors.

'Hey, hey, hey... Hey, hey, hey'

The gangster who had just landed in the bathroom face first, Slim Juan, as he was called by his crew, groaned as he lay on the floor that had not been mopped in over 20 years. He spat out what could only be described as grime, grease, and leaked toilet water.

It was not meant to go this way, no one was supposed to know about the warehouse. Yet here they were getting stomped by the 'hound' of Penguin. This was supposed to be easy money for guarding and moving products, but now it was turning into a living nightmare.

Slim Juan tried to sit up by first pushing himself up before crying out in pain at his left arm gave way. Breathing heavily from the pain he realized his left arm seemed to have been bent backward from the concussive blast that had sent him into the bathroom.

Before panic could settle in he heard voices speaking in the warehouse.

"Listen, man, we good," Tommy Hil, one of Blackwater Chief's lieutenants, stuttered. "You can take the product, the cash, hell everything just let me gooooooooooooo!"

A massive blast sounded in the warehouse following the immediate silence of Tommy.

'We'd like to know a little bit about you for our files...'

That blast shook Slim Juan from his pain as he desperately search the restroom to find his escape. Luck seemed to smile as at the end of the stalls was a window which, thanks to his slim appearance as his name suggested, he knew he could fit.

Biting his lip to stop from screaming from his twisted arm he forced himself up and hobbled to the window. Using a sink near the window he was able to prop his legs onto it and pushed the vertical window open. Pushing himself through proved to be painful for his arm and he did scrap his arm skin as he fell straight out onto the concrete.

Slim Juan's luck seemed to of run out as the first thing to land was his twisted left arm. He didn't scream, didn't even really react. The pain was so great Slim Juan passed out immediately.

'And here's to you, Missus Robinson... Jesus loves you more than...'

'Am I seriously singing while wasting gangsters?'

James sighed, 'I really need to update my playlist.'

Looking around the warehouse he nodded in satisfaction. Most of the Blackwater gangsters he had knocked out and incapacitated with little effort.

Penguin would be happy to see the last of these warehouses out of action. Now Blackwater would be bleeding money, to make matters better he even got one of their lieutenants!

'Not bad for a month's worth of work,' James grinned in satisfaction. He began grabbing the knocked-out gangsters with his mind and dragged them into a pile. He made sure to set Tommy Hil gently to the side. He had used a concussive blast with a little too much oomph and suspected he might have put the lieutenant into a coma.

Seeing the concrete floor cracked and partially thrown out he knew he had let loose yet again too much.

Sighing, "At least the building is still standing."

At that point, a few of Penguins men, dressed in suits walked into the warehouse. One of them gave an appreciative whistle at the stack of Blackwater gangsters.

"Any still alive 'hound'" he asked?

James gave him a dirty look at that.

The man raised his arms in peace, "Hey, sorry just asking. I forget you don't have any hits under your belt, though considering what happens to your victims..." he indicated to the pile. "Death might be preferable..."

James said nothing at that. His jaw was clenched and the all-familiar anger was building within him.

Perhaps noticing the fumes rising from their compatriot, another Penguin goon quickly said, "Hey, to each their own. This is a good bust and these guys will be perfect for interrogation."

"Ya..."

"Crazy you took them all out... hell did you rip up the floor?"

"Boss will be thrilled"

"F&*k Blackwater"

And more colorful language in regards to Blackwater was said. James kept quiet during this, relying on his meditation to calm his irritation.

Still annoyed he said, "Let's not waste any time, they are all here. Load them in the vans and take them back to Penguin for questioning." He began walking out of the warehouse, "I'm sure after a while they will spill where their Chief is." And walked out.

The Penguin's goons began dragging the unconscious Blackwater gangsters out to the vans. One of them stopped to look around the warehouse, tons of product and money still visible from the broken crates.

"How come we ain't taking any of this?"

One goon dragging an unconscious body stopped and slapped him in the back of the head. "Idiot, Penguin orders, we take all witnesses, and leave the loot."

He went back to dragging the body. Another goon who had walked in to grab the Blackwater lieutenant remarked, "Boss said it was to give a bone to 'the powers that be,' probs just trying to stay in GCPD good graces." Grunting he leaned down and began dragging the lieutenant by the arms. "Come grab this piece of shit's legs."

The Penguin goon who had asked the question looked around again for a brief moment, before shrugging and helping by grabbing the knocked-out gangster's legs.

---------------------------------------

Commissioner James Gordon really really hated growing trends.

Yellow crime scene tape was everywhere. Red and blue police lights lit the streets surrounding this average-looking abandoned warehouse. Uniformed offices with a mix of CSI and firefighters made the area look more like a Public Services bazaar.

Gordon walked into the warehouse where CSI had completed the majority of the preliminary work. The warehouse had tons of crates and barrels scattered about. Some of the boxes were broken with a few of the barrels suffering deep dents and bends in the metal.

The stand-out was the concrete floor that looked like a 9x9ft chunk had been blasted by dynamite. Pieces of concrete were scattered everywhere with some embedded in the walls and a few that had broken the windows.

'This is the 7th warehouse of Blackwater that had been ransacked.' Gordon frowned, 'the 7th that has everything left in it, minus the crew.'

All the crates and barrels had either drugs or money in them. EGT crews had already reported an estimate of $17 million in cash and drugs. Gordon had to put cops to keep an eye on the cops watching all gangs' materials. He knew the temptation would be too great for his men who were barely making ends meet in a city like Gotham.

"Weird isn't it Commissioner?" A gruff Brooklyn accent said to him.

Detective Harvey Bullock was easily one of Gordon's best in the GCPD. He had been one of the first detectives to be assigned to GCPD's major crimes division and had taken a few bullets already for it. Proving how effective he was at the job.

Though his gruff demeanor and table manners left much to desire, Gordon knew he could trust him. With Gotham being what it was, that would make him also a rarity, bribes, and corruption still plagued the GCPD. It was ingrained in it, practically part of the police culture, it would take a miracle to fully root out.

Bullock continued, "All cash, all drugs still in their crates," he nudge a broken crate, "Well save for the ones the gangsters were thrown at or beaten with."

He walked over to where the concrete crater was, "And this, looks like it exploded, but there is no residue or accelerators to suggest that."

Pinching some of the crushed concrete he rubbed it between his fingers, "Best guess would be that someone took a sledgehammer or punched it, which would suggest one of those freaks."

Gordon nodded, "I would agree," he walked over and kneeled down to look at the crater closer. "KGBeast or Bane could have done this... maybe Killer Croc but he has been laying low."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gordon stood up. The migraine he had been getting from these crime scenes was already making a comeback.

Bullock meanwhile took a cigarette out and lit it up. With a big puff he said, "Is it weird I am hoping it's one of those freaks?" Seeing the confused look on Gordon he explained, "The last thing we need is a new one showing up... like that Zsasz."

Before Gordon could respond a new voice broke into the conversation, "Detective Bullock is correct, but also wrong..."

With a startle, Bullock spun around to look up at a towering figure that despite the various warehouse and CSI lights still somehow blended into the shadows. Clad in an armor-like bodysuit, the figure sported a black cape that cover most of his body and a cowl that hid his upper face while revealing a strong jawline with faint stubble. The cowl had ears that pointed sharply a few inches from the head, with eyes hidden behind white lenses, though the eyes still seemed to be able to stare into a person's soul.

The figure was silent, staring past Bullock and looking around the warehouse. Seemingly analyzing every detail and clue that could be gleaned from the largest crate to the smallest pebble.

Bullock took a step back nearly shouting, "Jesus Chri..." before Gordon stepped in front of him standing next to the figure in black.

Gordon then glanced around at the other CSI and cops before shouting, "I need everyone out of the warehouse now for the next 10 minutes." A few confused looks along with some startled glances at the figure in black caused hesitation. "NOW!" Gordon yelled.

Everyone save for Gordon and Bullock bolted for the door, no one wanted a pissed-off commissioner.

Gordon looked back at the figure in black, "7 warehouses, all belonging to Blackwater, all still containing the money and drugs, all the crews assigned to them missing, and a month after the Drunken Shipman fight broke out which our informants said was a declaration of war on Penguin... what do you make of it?"

The figure in black said nothing, he began to bend down and examine different parts of the warehouse. Occasionally stopping and using tweezers picked up hairs, pebbles, and other small nondescript items before putting them into their individual bags and tucking them into his cloak.

He did the same for a few small spots of blood, taking a dab with some forensic tools that seemed endless, and collected samples.

A few minutes went by with the figure seemingly ignoring the two policemen. Bullock made a move to say something but Gordon cut him off with a sharp look and a motion for silence.

The figure had walked into the bathroom before coming out, this time directly staring back at the detectives.

"Detective Bullock indicated the possibility of a new player in town and I believe the evidence supports such." Pointing at the few blood spots he said, "But I believe it is premature to say we have another Zsasz, the blood spots indicate that the individuals were roughed up and most likely knocked out judging from how the scraps in the dust and dirt lining the floor show a lack of struggle after an initial attack."

The figure in black kneeled down near the crater in the concrete, "Of course that is merely a hypothesis, I would need to see the evidence gathered at the other crime scenes to confirm my theory."

Gordon snorted at that, "You and I both know you investigated those scenes and got all the evidence you needed."

The figure looked up to stare at Gordon. He smiled at that, "We have worked together long enough for me to know how you work." Then taking a serious expression Gordon continued, "This is all tied into the gang war between Blackwater and Penguin, the best I can figure is Penguin got hold of someone with serious muscle, and that muscle has decimated Blackwater's operations in less than a month."

Gordon took a brief breath, "This is serious, it has been great having Blackwater taken out, but if Penguin has someone on his payroll that can do this, how long before he starts making bigger plays?"

The figure in black nodded and stood up, "You should be very worried..." The figure began walking out of the warehouse, with Gordon and Bullock walking after him.

"Whoever is doing this has had training and is most likely the same culprit responsible for the Riddler's and Black Mask's troubles." The figure made a hard turn to the alley adjacent to the warehouse, various officers and CSI techs stepping out of his way as if he was a demon walking amongst them.

Gordon motioned for his men to re-enter the warehouse and continue their work while he and Bullock followed the figure.

"From what I have gathered from my interrogations of the local gangs... the new Blackwater Chief raised the tax in his territory against Penguin. Penguin sent a rep... our suspect to negotiate." The figure stopped near the side of the warehouse to examine a window, a window that connected to the warehouse bathroom.

"A fight broke out with the new Chief apparently thinking he could take Penguin, a stupid idea even without this new guy as Penguin could grind Blackwater with sheer money and bodies." Pausing, the figure kneeled and examined the floor right outside the window intently.

Bullock at that point spoke up, "What do you mean 'new guy'?" The figure looked up and stared at him, Bullock could feel a little sweat begin to break out on his forehead from that stare. Why the hell did that stare always get him so nervous?

"Well..." Bullock stuttered, "You said 'guy' like a male perp, and knowing you, you are pretty sure about the things you claimed," he took a deep breath. "From statistics, you are probably right about them being male but what makes you so sure?"

The figure stood at that point and began to make his way further down the alley, "During my interrogations of the gangs I have discovered a little about our assailant." As he continued to walk he would occasionally kneel down to check the asphalt for something before standing and moving further into the alley.

"Several who were willing to talk described the assailant as a young man with no distinguishing features. Many of the local criminals in the area are referring to him as the 'hound' because he seems to have a knack for hunting down people and locations like a bloodhound." Finally, the figure stopped in from of a closed dumpster. An unholy smell of rotten food and soiled cardboard seemed to leak from it.

"A fair description considering these last 7 warehouses was on no one's radar until he attacked them." The figure traced his finger around the lid of the dumpster.

"One thing that is sure about him is the fact that he only incapacitates, at times very brutally and sometimes with permanent injuries... but he never kills. The evidence gathered at each crime scene of the warehouses suggests that he goes in, knocks out the gangsters, and then has other crew drag them and transport them to unknown locations." The figure looked back at the Commissioner and detective.

"Considering his possible age from the descriptions I can rely on it's quite possible he is just starting off in his career and either is scared to make that leap or has some moral hesitation to doing so." The figure then turned back to the dumpster and flipped the lid off.

"Still it is unusual for organized crime to be so merciful to rival gangs they are at war at. My guess would suggest Penguin is trying to finish this war quickly and with as little bloodshed. Why is something I am uncertain about but the missing gangsters from the warehouse I would surmise are being interrogated for information." The figure at this point with his tall height was looking around the dumpster and began moving bags of trash and other junk around.

"The Chief of Blackwater according to some of my contacts has gone into hiding after so many of his crew and locations have been taken. Till he is captured it seems Penguin will have to keep this war going on." The figure paused in his rustling of trash.

"Of course, that is all theory work, but I now have a new lead that should help answer many of our questions," he said.

Gordon perked up at this, "What new evidence?!?"

Reaching deeper into the dumpster the figure yanked a shirt collar and a man up out into the street. The man gave a yelp and a scream when he landed.

The man laying on the street was skinny and dressed in the typical Blackwater attire, what really threw Gordon and Bullock was seeing his left arm bent backward in a grotesque way.

The figure as dark as the night loomed over the Blackwater gangster, "We finally have a witness."