41: The Old Goon

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(General P.O.V)

Things had quieted down after everything that had happened.

The Manor's repair was almost done and Bruce had added more security features to the entire Wayne compound. Nothing short of an invisible, untraceable, silent breeze could go undetected.

And even that, with some cutting edge technology from Kord industries that was under the blanket of Wayne enterprises, small scale weather manipulation features were also installed in the new and improved Batcave.

Yet Bruce felt it wasn't enough. For every win they could claim, they had similarly suffered some losses. His identity being chief among them along with Barry's break from the Justice League.

He exercised as he thought. The strain in his muscles helped his focus.

A trail of sweat ran down his forehead. Bruce was benching something that even professional weight trainers would think twice about trying. And all he had to show for the exertion was a little sweat.

Bruce completed the bench press and sat up. Alfred offered him a towel from the side. He wiped his face, his breathing steady, not at all strained from the workout.

The Butler then cleared his throat.

"Sorry to disturb you, Master Wayne but you seem to have a guest."

Bruce looked up at Alfred's words but the Butler simply pointed at the door.

Giovanni Zatara stood on the door, his hat placed under under the crook of his arm. Bruce immediately knew what this was about.

A short half hour later, Batman and Zatara were in the Batcave poring over a disturbing report.

"Kent Nelson's grave was dug into. His corpse is missing."

Zatara told him, the fixed screen of the Batcomputer showing a news report from Salem, Massachusetts.

"He's not the only one, a lot of dead magic users graves and crypts have been defiled."

Zatara shook his head.

"It's a wonder someone was able to break through the spells in most of those graves. Magic practitioners understand that even death is not the end all be all."

"You need help with this?"

Batman asked but Zatara shook his head.

"No, I'm actually here for something else. Two things, infact."

He pushed his hand inside the top hat and brought out...a newspaper.

Batman's eyes narrowed.

"What is this?"

He asked.

"Look at the front page."

On it was the picture of a tall, white haired man with a longsword strapped to his hip. He stood on top of a wrecked SUV, bent down while looking at a few armed men on the ground.

The figure had on a red Oni mask covering his face but Batman immediately knew who it was.

"Davian."

Bruce ground out.

"It seems like you didn't know about this."

Zatara observed.

"You're usually on top of things, are you okay Batman? You have been awfully distracted."

The Dark Knight looked at Zatara over his shoulder before turning his attention to the screen.

"I'm fine."

Zatara didn't seem like he believed it but to Bruce's relief, he didn't push.

"Yes. Well, seems like our young friend has taken a liking to crime fighting."

The magician then mused,

"Maybe your idea to make him a part of the League isn't as farfetched as we initially thought."

"Mmh."

Batman made a sound. A brief silence fell in between them.

"Bruce, I know what's troubling you."

Zatara begun, tentatively.

"And you were doing so well not prying Zatara."

The Dark Knight responded, pulling up a feed of a hospital ward in Gotham.

Zatara huffed.

"It's clear to see you blame yourself for the shadow war going on between Leviathan and The Legion of Shadows."

Batman's hand stalled. A sigh escaped his lips.

"I am. The only reason Talia did this was to spite her father... because he sees me as more of a worthy successor than his daughter. Doesn't matter how many times I refuse to become his offer. Talia is too far gone, she wholly believes she has something to prove and innocent people are the ones to suffer."

He abruptly stood up from the seat.

Zatara nodded, knowing the conversation was over.

"Are we taking the Batmobile or teleporting there?"

The magician asked, then before Batman could answer Zatara was already walking towards the supercar.

"Of course we're taking the Batmobile."

He said with a small smile.

"I've always wanted a ride on it."

(Davian's P.O.V)

Gotham's architecture comprised of old buildings that had been converted into high class establishments or tenements that occupied an entire block. Alleys being the only break in a row of dirty tanned bricks and carved marble.

The place we were was definitely not part of the commercial district we had to cross to get here. The streets were dilapidated. It was very different from the reflective glass panes of the skyscrapers.

People were scarce and more often than not, gang members hang around, smoking what I could tell was weed and carrying firearms. The last part was easy enough to deduce. It was in the way they walked.

Guns gave you a certain level of confidence that could be spotted in amateurs. The smart ones projected an air of menace without actually trying. They were the ones who were silent, eyes periodically scanning their surroundings.

The street then broke off into a small path to the dingy club. A light bulb flickered dangerously above the service door of the establishment.

We had been on stake out for 40 minutes already. Taking into account we had met up with Artemis at 2 in the morning, it meant that dawn was quickly approaching.

And the cold was still very unforgiving.

"How long do we..."

It seems Raven had begun to get impatient too.

"Shh! He's coming out."

Artemis shushed her before she could complete her statement. Raven looked at me and I raised my eyebrows, stomping down on the laughter trying to bubble out of me. No one shushed Raven. She had on a death stare. Oh Artemis, get ready for payback later.

"That's him?"

I asked the archer, leaning my head slightly over the metal frame of the condenser on the roof of the building.

The target was a short, stocky man who walked with a limp. He was old, probably in his 50's with graying white hair.

"Danny Fulio. A goon for hire."

Artemis confirmed.

"He's worked for Mr.Freeze, Scarecrow and Riddler. Word on the straight is that Two Face knows him personally. He might look harmless but the sheer amount of things he knows about the underground makes him very dangerous. Even without considering that he is a good boxer. Retired though. If anyone can tell us what we need to know, it's him."

Artemis said with a small measure of respect.

And I could see why she respected him.

This was a legit tough guy.

Artemis grabbed my hand just as I prepared to go in. Every second we wasted those kids could be anywhere. I looked at her questioningly.

"Let me talk to him."

She requested.

I nodded.

(General P.O.V)

"Yo, Fulio!"

The old man heard from behind him. The cigarette in his lips remained unlit as he looked for his lighter.

"Yeah, Sarge."

Danny chanced a look at his back and saw a lighter flying towards him, thrown at by one of the gang members. He said thanks and lit it. Immediately the tangy poisonous goodness of tobacco made its way down his windpipe.

Danny took a moment to savor it.

"Thanks kid."

He told Sarge, lobbying the lighter back and continuing to walk down the street.

"Thanks for the help last Thursday."

Sarge yelled at his back.

Danny ignored him.

His steps were light and unhurried. He broke out into the deserted main street knowing that in a few hours this entire road would be full of cars.

Danny stopped, his cigarette halfway smoked.

"I know you're there. You should know, I hate it when people sneak up on me. This is Gotham, I've killed for less."

Danny spoke into the air.

"I bet you have old timer."

A female voice intoned sarcastically, the darkness from one of the corners rippling to reveal 2 individuals.

"Where's the other one?"

Danny asked. That gave the girl pause. The guy however took it in stride, shrugging as he casually approached the older man. The latter made no reaction at the intimidating Oni mask on the former's face.

"Can I get a smoke?"

This new individual's voice was deep but young.

Danny shrugged, handing over an unlit cigarette from his pocket.

"I don't have a light..."

On the tip of the man's finger, a purple flame flashed, lighting up the cig.

Danny felt a flash of unreasonable envy.

"That looks handy."

He commented.

"It is."

The guy said, unaware of the glare his companion was giving him, the first girl who had spoken.

She was almost his opposite. Dressed in a green costume and wilding a bow. Jittery yet trained well. The guy on the other hand seemed to belong in the streets. He was casual about it but Danny could see it in the way he subtly had his back to the walls of the building, a dead end that no one could use to sneak up on him.

"We need to ask you a few questions. About a few kids that were kidnapped."

The girl turned her attention to the old man.

"I don't know nothin."

The habitual answer slipped out of the old Goon's mouth.

The young man chuckled slightly.

"Come on man, it's important. You know what happens to street kids out here. I figure with how crappy Gotham is, it goes double for them."

He looked up and Danny saw brown eyes staring at him from the eye holes in the mask.

The eyes, were so much like his. The old man turned to walk away.

"The old run down Cathedral. We don't deal in kids. Nobody short of actual assholes who deserve way more than a Batman ass kicking do. Be careful, Man-Bat is involved."

"Thanks."

The voice reached his ears but once again, Danny Fulio ignored them.