Chapter 7-Consequences!
Chapter 7
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The night for the caped crusader would end with several such alterations, yet despite his efforts, two shelters would be damaged. Few knew that, without the protection of their new guardian, just how broad the damage would have been.
"Ouch!" Bruce screamed as bright light interrupted his sleep.
"I had a late night, Alfred. Let me sleep," he spoke as he wrested the covers to shield his eyes from the burning Sun.
"I would, but there is someone here to meet you downstairs," Alfred said, making him groan, for if it was not important, Alfred wouldn't have rustled him out of his sleep.
"Who is it?" he questioned as he tore off the blanket and rubbed his eye, politely thanking the butler for the glass of juice he handed him.
"It's Mr. Earle, the previous CEO of Wayne Enterprises."
And Wayne looked at Alfred with a raised brow and questioned.
"What is he doing here? Send him away?" Bruce said, annoyed at why the man had disturbed his sleep.
"I tried, but he is rather insistent and says that he has something he wants to share with you?"
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Carmine Falcone
The city of Gotham was changing. It was always changing. Yet for a long time, as he saw the shifting futures, he didn't see himself in that future, and that infuriated him.
He was Carmine Falcone, son of Vincent Falcone, head of Gotham's biggest criminal syndicate, the man who had owned this city a little over a year ago, walking through its streets as a king. Yet now the winds had shifted, and his own future had become uncertain.
'And it was all because of him!' He had begun this. Thomas Wayne, refusing to take any lessons from his parent's death. Wayne continued to carry out his so-called heroic deeds, throwing away his money to help the so-called needy, trying to save a city that ate out of his hands.
The boy was becoming a nuisance, young and idealistic, a dreamer. One who had refused to pay any heed to the warnings he had sent. Why couldn't he just enjoy his wealth like the rest of them? Why did the boy have to be such a revolutionary?
Yet he would learn. He would, if not directly, then through that pretty little friend at the DA's office. She had been a problem on his side for some time now as well. It was time that all of this was taken care of.
"He is very disappointed in you, Mr. Falcone?" spoke the other piece of shit, driving him mad, as he turned to face the psychiatrist from Arkham.
Jonathan Crane, and Falcone didn't miss the madness hidden in that gaze, yet it would take some kind of madness to deal with the people locked up in that hell hole. Yet Falcone wasn't bothered by the pretty little doctor. He could handle the man himself.
NO, what had him worried was the man, or rather the men who were using the man. The Falcone's were an old crime family; their roots ran deep, yet the people behind him seemed even more ancient and dangerous.
Something which the young doctor seemed rather oblivious to. A blessing for the man made a rather useful pawn, especially with his postings and qualifications.
"And why is that, huh? Your boss should appreciate what I have been doing for him, getting his shit into the city despite all the hurdles," Falcone snickered, frustrated by this whole nonsense.
"Yes, yet you have only managed to transfer half the stuff, and you failed to deliver on the container we asked you to secure for us from that ship?" Crane spoke, adjusting his glasses, and Falcone's face thinned as he sat down in his chair and looked the man in the eye.
"Now listen to me, and listen carefully. You and I both know that it has been getting hard to move stuff in recent days. Someone's been paying the cops to look at our business, and the movement's slowed down overall," he finished as he opened his drawer and took out a cigar.
The police were still corrupt, yet somehow, some of the more idealistic bastards had managed to rise up the chain and were now causing problems. Problems that had cost him millions.
"And as for that package, I am telling you. It wasn't there. Whatever machine you and your boss were looking for wasn't on that ship, and from what I found out, the package never left the Wayne Tower," he told the man, as he gritted his teeth at the sheer mention of that name.
Falcone had met the older brother, that boy had spunk. His eyes had been fearless, yet he knew that they would change with time. Yet it appeared as though the younger one had inherited the same bravado. Perhaps it was something in their blood.
"I will relay that information to him," said the good doctor with a nod.
"But that doesn't solve our initial conundrum, Mr. Falconi. We need those deliveries into Arkham," the bastard insisted, and Carmine knew that he was on a leash. If his suspicion was right, then he couldn't afford to piss him off.
"Tell him I will have that handled as well; it's time Thomas Wayne realizes that there are consequences for his actions," Falconi remarked as he lit up the cigar and put it to his mouth, and savored the virgin puff.
"Thomas Wayne is too cautious," the man replied, and Falconi shrugged as he gave the man a wild smile.
"He is, but his friend at the attorney's office is not. That should teach him a lesson," he remarked, and he saw Crane's eyes narrow as he probably realized whom he was referring to.
"Miss Rachel Dawes," the mind doctor identified her rather quickly, and his tone spoke of a rather strife relationship.
"Interesting. She is becoming quite a thorn in my side as well," added the young man with a small smile, and Falconi was aware of that. The young assistant DA was an idealist, a pretty one too, and he would have spared the girl if times had been different. But now he needed to send a message to that rich boy, and from what he had learned the boy was rather close to her.
It was time he learned that his actions had consequences.
She had filed several cases against the young doctor, asking for his removal from Arkham, something which had put the young man under quite a bit of spotlight, forcing him to put down his experimentations.
Ohh, he knew some of the things that went on in that hell hole, though that was of little concern to him.
"Speaking of that, I want you to get some of my men into Arkham," he added, remembering about the debacle that had been last night. He had sent out men, to target those blasted shelters Wayne had set up. They had been eating away at his manpower, yet somehow, half of those he had sent had been beaten to a pulp by someone and were now under police custody.
"I cannot," came the retort, annoying him further as the young man continued.
"You and I both know that Miss Dawes is rather heavily interested in me and my rulings in this regard. I believe she will only take this opportunity to further tear into my reputation and position, So, I cannot help you," the man declined.
"Pah! Didn't I tell you to not worry about this? She will soon be taken care of. I need those men, Crane. Idle hands have been getting rather scarce around here, you know," Falconi said as he leaned forward, and looked the man in the eye.
"I will see what I can do. Though the next shipment is rather important for him, I believe it would be best if you were to personally make sure nothing goes wrong with its delivery," said Crane, and Falconi didn't like that the man thought he could send commands through his henchmen, yet he would deal with him later, once he had regained his lost power.
"I will, but what about Thomas Wayne, I don't believe that it was a coincidence that your little gadget was missing from that ship," Falconi added, as the young Doctor simply stood up.
"I will convey your concerns to him and do make sure that there are no further delays. He is running out of patience," Crane said, and Falconi shrugged.
"I will see what I can do, but you need to get me my men first, doctor," Falconi remarked, and the doctor nodded.
"You will have them," and with that, the spectacled monster walked out of his office, leaving him alone.
He stood up and walked towards the massive window that showed the expansive city, facing the massive tower standing tall in the city center. A 'W' inscribed into it as the railway line passed right through it.
"Soon, boy. Soon, you shall learn what it means to pick a fight with me!"
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A figure in the shadow dressed in a black outfit that had him blend into the night itself stood atop a high riser looking down at the city below, a city rotten to the core, a city that they had long condemned.
"I have talked with Falcone. He says Wayne is being a nuisance. He needs to be handled if things are to go smoothly,"
And with that, the man cut off the phone, knowing already what needed to be done.
"Another Wayne, it seems your brother is also very special, huh," uttered the man as he looked up at the building that stood tall in the center of Gotham, the symbol of hop to which this city clung to.
"Thomas Wayne, it seems we must handle you first."
And with that, the man raised his hand, and several figures clad in pitch-black clothing, masking their figures, walked out of the shadows.
"Have the men make preparations. We have a target."
"Hai!" and with that, the men disappeared once again, vanishing into the night as the man looked at the first page of the newspaper he had picked up in the morning.
SHADOWY FIGURE ROUGHS UP GOONS! WHO IS THE CAPED CRUSADER TARGETTING GOTHAM'S CRIMINALS! IS HE EVEN REAL!
by Edward Newgate
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Just for the sake of it. "ONE PIECE EXISTSSSSS!"~By Edward Newgate