Gears

For days Helena had a bad feeling in her stomach.

" Bruce are you serious?"

" One hundred percent. Jason was attacked last night, by a man fitting North's overall description, along with many other factors. He killed a man."

" Bruce.... There has to be a mistake, yeah David's a little... Messed up. But nothing I've seen about him screams psycho killer."

" Something I need to know?"

" I might have had lunch with him. And I might have agreed to see him again. Bruce I just think your blowing this out of the water. And so what, if you are right? Criminals these days need something to be afraid of. Maybe a little hardcore violence will send a brighter message."

" Helena, I thought we were past this."

" You thought. That's the problem. You think you know everything, Bruce."

" I can see, you're not going to change your mind on this. Good bye Helena."

Bruce abruptly ended his phone call with Helena before turning back to his monitor.

" Rest easy Master Bruce, I don't need you giving yourself a heart attack at such a young age." Alfred told the man.

" I can rest when I figure out why this one man has suddenly turned Gotham into an active war zone."

" Well, Master Bruce If may, speaking from personal experience, sometimes we have no control over it. Sometimes, Master Bruce, the war follows the soldier home. Perhaps a more direct approach with Mr. North would be more beneficial than simply watching him descend into madness." Alfred told Bruce.

Bruce looked from Alfred and rested his head on his hands in deep thought. " I never thought about it that way. Maybe you're right. Thank you, Alfred. But the question is, should Batman go or Bruce Wayne."

" Bruce Wayne has the image of a billionaire playboy. Perhaps it's best if Batman goes."

" Right, Alfred. Tell, Dick I'm heading out." Bruce stood up from his chair and walked over to his suitcase. Bruce's latest suit was all grey with a black Utility Belt and a Black Bat symbol with a golden outline around. His suit was heavily armored compared to some of his former suits, with more armor around the chest plate to help stop bullet fire.

" Time for Batman to say hello."

..................

" Hello?"

" You know who it is." David spoke into an intercom.

" Just going through the process. You know how it is. Hang on, I'll buzz you up."

The door in front of David made a clicking sound and a green light buzzed above the door handle.

David opened the heavily armored door and walked into the narrow corridor. And once he was at the bottom he was immediately greeted by a thin man in a wheelchair. He had short grey hair and was covered in cuts and scars. A pair of dog tags hung down from his neck suggesting he was once a military man himself.

" Davey North! The fucking Ghost himself."

" Staff Sargeant. Michael Gunnery. You know I never went by that codename."

" Maybe not. But a lot of motherfukers called you that." Michael told the man. He rolled over to his desk, which was filled with gadgets of all sizes and pulled out a cigar from underneath the desk." You know, I gotta say I thought after what happened in Russia, you'd be out of the game. But your back! You're fucking back baby! Woo!"

" I'm not back. Just taking care of some small business."

" Davey, Ain't nothin with you small. You're a man with conviction. A mission. Did you forget who helped you get into the business in the first place? Yeah. I didn't think so. So, let's get to business. What do ya need?"

" Nothing loud. I'm not entirely sure what I'm going into."

" Ain't sure? What do ya mean? You ain't running and shooting blind? Are you?"

David looked to the side. His silence was an obvious indication of the truth.

" David, are you fucking stupid? You don't run and shoot blind. Not in Gotham. Why do you think I stay out of that damned city? The Bat will be breathing down your neck in no time."

" So, you stay just outside of Gotham?"

" Yeah, and I don't sell to those idiots in Gotham. I sell outwards. The government, other clients."

" So, you'll speak of the government, but not your other clients?"

" David, the government don't give a fuck about us. We went to war for them and when they were done with us, they threw us the fuck out. The VA? A fucking joke. I couldn't get the help to pay for my fucking surgery after I was nearly crippled in Markovia. So, as far as I'm concerned fuck'em. Now, my clientele? That's a different story kid. They keep me paid and I keep them supplied. Nothing else needs to be said. Now, we gonna keep talking about my business or are we gonna talk about what the fuck you need?"

David sighed and rolled his eyes. " You were the one who started that damn conversation."

" Yeah, and now, I'm ending it, Cock sucker."

" Look, Gotham has some tall buildings. I was hoping you get me hooked up with something to help me travel. I can't keep running through Alley ways, hoping to not get seen. I also need a better belt to hold my weapons. The old one is wearing out. I'm also gonna need some more ammo.

" Explosive rounds or armor piercing?"

" Both."

" Right answer. What else? What about your guns? you keeping them in shape?"

" Yeah."

" Oh yeah, lemme see'em." Michael held out his hands and waited for David to place his two signature pistols into them.

David reached into his waist band and pulled out his two pistols. And when he placed them in Michaels hands the man spit on them.

" Been keeping them in shape my ass. These things are fucking dirty, dusty, and all bent out of shape. You been using these as hammers?"

" Look, I haven't touched this stuff since I got out."

" So, you just been keeping them in a bag? Let me guess you stuffed them in a bag and hid'em behind some fucking dry wall. Give me a damn minute. I got new ones in yesterday."

" I don't want new ones. I want those."

" Fine. I won't argue with ya kid. Yer the one who's gotta use'em. But I'm cleaning these first. Sit down and give me a damn minute." Within seconds Michael had completely disassembled the two desert eagle pistols. " Un fucking Believable."

With some cloth, alcohol and polish, Michael started cleaning and rubbing down each individual piece of the guns. Barrel, slide, chamber, the hammer, the grip, all of it. By the time he was done, and had reassembled the guns, the standard silver and black pistols shined as if they were brand new.

" Here jack ass. Can even see the name on the side of them again. Ebony and Ivory, he doesn't treat you girls right."

" Shut up." David told the man. He snatched the guns from him and inspected them himself. " Damn, almost like they're brand new.... Good job Mike. Least you can still do something right."

" Yeah, gargle my balls fuck nugget. Give me a moment, I'll get your shit together and then you get the fuck outa my lab." Michael rolled over to his desk of toys and started shifting through it all. " Nah. Nope. I've been looking for this. Ah! Here we go." Michael rolled back to David and placed a small white and black grappling hook on his lap. " Here. That'll take care of ya travel problems."

" Why is it white?"

" One of my oldest clienteles. Needed something on the fly. Think his name was Ghost-Maker or something. I made two for him, but he only needed one. So, take that one." Michael then grabbed from a shelf two large ammo cans. " Ones on the right are ap rounds, and the ones on the right explosive. Careful with those, a little more kick than the other rounds. And then the belt. Try that one on the gun shelf over there on."

David got up and walked over to the gun shelf. And grabbed the black looking utility belt.

" Nothing you'd find in the military. We didn't even have this kind of stuff." David spoke.

" Course, fucking not. Was Illegal as shit most of it. But this, this was just common fucking sense. If we started using our goddamn heads, then maybe things would go smoother. Does it fit?"

" Yeah, it fits." David told the man. " How much do I owe ya?"

" Nothin."

" You can't be serious."

" Of course, I am. Kid, I known ya for a long time. I know you ain't doing all this for no reason. Something's going on, else you wouldn't be here. Just make sure that you don't get in too deep, to where you can't get yourself out."

" I can't make any promises, Mike."

" I know, kid. Just thought I'd say it anyway. You be careful out there."

" You know me, Mike." David looked at Michael and smiled. He stuffed the gear Michael gave him into a small duffle bag and carried it on his shoulder. " Take care of yourself, old man."

Michael watched as David left his humble abode, and as David was getting into his car, Michaels took a pull from his cig. " You to Davey. You too." Michael watched as David drove away taking note of the way the clouds were moving. " Gonna be a storm coming tonight. God damnit David. Watch yourself."