CHAPTER 6: "Umm Sorry But... Who Are You?"

On the docks of the East Bay of Gotham lays multiple warehouses, fish production plants, and a few wooden piers for locals to fish on. Tucked out of the way was a broken-down refueling station. The more modern stations that fueled the massive cargo ships long overtook any business the station would have.

Decrepit and rundown one would be surprised to see men in suits loitering around the outside. Some were walking on patrol while others, smoking, leaned against the dock's old barrels and crab traps littering the outside.

The docks were silent save for the occasional horn of a ship passing by or the sound of tides splashing against them. It was almost a tranquil silence.

A scream of agony interrupted the tranquility. The noise's origin came from inside the rundown refueling station, the men outside briefly looked in its direction before going back to their cigarettes.

Hidden on a roof overlooking the docks, a figure crouched down low in the shadows. Watching the scene with a pair of binoculars.

'So this is where they have been taking them...' the onlooker thought.

He had been assigned the task to observe the various hotspots of the Penguin mob to find where they had been taking the Blackwater gangsters. The old man had emphasized the importance of his assignment, with the caveat he only observed and report back. He was not to engage.

'Because of course, I can't handle a few empty suits.' He thought irritably.

It seemed that despite the constant training and his own impressive arrest count he still was not trusted fully. Though to be fair, 14 years old was still an insane age to be running around the streets of Gotham at night spying on mobsters.

The screaming from the fuel station began once more. This time it sounded like it was coming from a different voice.

Penguin had chosen a particularly good location for his interrogations. This part of the dock had very little crime and so stayed under the radar of the police. Even the other Gotham 'guardians' rarely came to this specific location due to its low activity.

It helped as well being deep in Penguin's territory. Any rescue attempts by Blackwater would fail before they began, and that was only if they knew where their men were being kept.

'Probably why they are not even hiding or muffling the screaming' he mused. 'Still a little sloppy for Penguin.'

What the onlooker did not fully realize was the situation the Blackwater gang was really under. With the loss of most of their secret warehouses, the gang had mostly fallen apart due to a lack of funds and fear. Though their Chief still maintained a handful of his best men the majority of their organization had fallen from the Penguin mob attacks, cop raids, and the 'Hound' attacks.

At this point the war was mostly over, Penguin now was hunting down the Chief to fully eradicate the gang and secure his position over the Blackwater territory. The territory consisted of most of the small Blackwater River that traveled from Blackgate prison to loop around a small portion of east Gotham before dumping near the East Bay docks.

But despite or perhaps because of the rapid fall of the gang, Penguin had grown impatient and was ignoring some of the additional safeguards he kept in place to avoid trouble from police and 'others.'

Hearing the continued screams of pain from the warehouse the onlooker took out a small device and spoke into it, "Report, found the possible location of captured Blackwater gangster. East docks near abandoned refuel station 7. Multiple Penguin mobsters guarding outside and repeated screams suggest ongoing torture. Permission to engage?"

He waited a moment, the screams seemed to have grown louder.

A deep voice sounded from his device, "Negative, do not engage, I will be there shortly. Observe only and wait for me."

Despite the mask, anyone could see the annoyance across the onlooker's face, "There is no time, multiple victims are most likely being tortured, and barely any muscle is guarding the station. I can handle this."

The device chimed back with the deep voice taking a much stricter tone, "You will not engage, I will not repeat myself. ETA is less than 20, only observe."

The onlooker looked up as he thought he heard one of the screaming voices yell, "HEEEEEEELLP!"

Breathing deeply he responded to his mentor, "No can do, time is up. I will engage and subdue."

The voice from the device growled, "This is not the time for ego, Gotham PD is already alerted and I will be there in less than 18 now. Do not enga..."

The onlooker muted the device and clipped it back on his belt. Now was not the time for hesitation or caution.

He stood up, took a grappling hook out of his belt he shot it to one of the nearby ledges. He rolled his shoulders to stretch them and prepared to swing in to take out the first of the mobsters outside the station.

'Time to be the wonder...' he thought as he jumped into action.

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*40 Minutes earlier. Inside the refueling station.

The inside of the refueling station was rather sparse. Most of the equipment had been stripped with only a few barrels and pumps remaining, all tossed to the side of the building.

The main floor of the station was actually a floating dock with a roof and bay doors. This was to allow small to medium size boats to enter its bay doors for refueling. The back of the station which connected to the main dock had stairs that led to an elevated overlook of the interior of the building.

Half a dozen Penguin mobsters were scattered around on guard duty.

On the main floor in the middle was open water where the boats would park. Near the edge, several men were tied to chairs. With two men in suits standing off to the side observing them.

"Surprise to see you here Hound, thought you never got involved with..." the mobster paused before indicating to the handful of Blackwater gangsters tied up in chairs. They all were looking worse for the wear. Many still sported injuries from the recent Hound warehouse excursion and also being roughed up the last few days for information on where their Chief was.

"Usually no, it is something the Boss has not involved me with. But recent events have moved up his timetable for when to finish this." James said as he walked down the line of prisoners, hands behind his back.

The Penguin mobster in charge of the interrogation, Eddie Blade, frowned at that. "Well, we have been at these guys for a few days now. I know we are a little behind schedule but..."

James interrupted him, "I am here to put you back on schedule."

He stopped in front of the Blackwater lieutenant, 'Tommy... something isn't it.' He thought while looking at the man whose face resembled a rotten tomato from all the swelling. Apparently using a concussive blast directly on the floor in front of someone can really hurt.

Eddie walked up to James, now annoyed at his dismissive attitude. "Listen, kid, we will have the information by the end of tonight maybe tomorrow morning, just in time for the Boss meeting tomorrow."

James unclasped his hands from behind his back and turned to look at the shorter mobster speaking to him.

Eddie Blade was one of the old crew, he had served Penguin for almost 2 decades at this point. Short and stubby with a mustache that screamed 'I belong to the Italian mob.' That is not to say he did not know what he was doing.

Eddie had been breaking the Penguin's enemies for years and had become an expert at it. The guy had made interrogation an art form and could just as easily torture someone from a baseball bat to a spoon.

James actually felt sympathy because he knew from past conversations with Eddie he was an expert in the field and it would be foolish to ignore such. True interrogation and information gathering took time and effort. A tortured person would tell you anything, especially lies to make it stop. And more often than not they could resist, not forever but long enough that the information became worthless. Really it was a very precise craft that many secret organizations who knew what they were doing used as a last resort due to the unreliable nature involved.

One thing James had learned was that you could only rush it so much, time was a factor, but unfortunately, time was up for Eddie.

Thus why James had been sent.

Penguin decided as one of the boy's last lessons before leaving the mob was to learn the fine art of interrogation. James had been taught the principles and lessons. Now was the time for practice.

James stared down at Eddie, "Then perhaps you can tell him that when he arrives in the next hour."

Eddie sputtered, "The Boss is coming here?"

James nodded, "Yes Eddie, and he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress."

Eddie felt the sweat grow on his brow, Penguin may not be those psychos like Dent or Joker, but displeasing him was often the last thing anyone ever did.

"I will get it done!" Eddie nervously said.

James nodded at that, "I hope so, Eddie, for your sake. The Boss is not as forgiving as I am."

Eddie paled at that. And began making his way back to the set of tools he had out to get his work going again.

James as he watched him felt a tinge of disappointment at Eddie for missing his reference.

'Philistine,' he thought as Eddie took a baseball bat and swung it at the knee of one of the prisoners.

The prisoner cried out as his knee gain a texture more similar to mashed potatoes. The others looked nervously at this sight, though the lieutenant, Tommy, looked more resigned than anything.

"Alright you sacks of shit," Eddie began as he swung the bat back and forth in front of them. Their eyes followed it with worry they would be next. "I am going to give a once-in-a-lifetime offer, right here right now!"

He paused to catch his breath, "Whoever gives up your Chief's last hideout gets to go." He stepped back with a thoughtful look, "In fact, we will even dump you at a west-end hospital, the type of place they treat those Wallstreet asses. But right now I need to hear some talking."

He stopped to stare at one of the younger gangsters, the guy looked up at him, "Listen I will talk, the Chief is at the 74th Street apartments off Vincent Aven..." he began before Eddie brought the bat swinging down onto his arm.

A loud snap of bone breaking rang out as the gangster began to scream in agony.

Eddie took a step back to look at all the prisoners. "If you don't know then shut the hell up!" He yelled.

"We know he ain't there, we paid off the hookers he hangs with and they confirmed that. What we want is the hideout he is at now, not some club he hangs at or his apartment that's listed on his taxes" Eddie said.

James meanwhile had been silent watching the gangsters to see their reactions. Most of them seemed either exhausted, scared, or confused. All of them except one at the end, tied up next to Tommy the lieutenant.

He looked uncertain...

James walked over and tapped Eddie on the shoulder and proceeded to whisper something into his ear. Eddie gave him a look, but then nodded and took a step back.

James walked to the end and stood in front of where Tommy and the other gangster sat.

He motioned to the guards, "Take the rest out save for these two, we don't need those guys anymore."

A brief moment of shuffling and dragging left the remaining mobsters and James staring at the 2 Blackwater gangsters tied up.

James then startled them with a genuine smile. Pointing his hand towards a chair, he mentally lifted it and set it down behind himself, before taking a seat.

Opening his suit jacket he kept a kind smile on his face and crossed his leg to rest on his lap, "I know things have been difficult for you guys these last few days. And I wish I could say it is going to get better but..."

He reached into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a few coins. "Unfortunately you have something we want..." Shuffling the coins in his hand he put the rest back and kept a quarter out.

Tommy at this point had recognized the teen, it was the same one that had wrecked his whole crew and put him into this situation.

He tried to talk though it really hurts to move... well anything. "I don't know where the Chief is!"

James uncrossed his legs and leaned forward and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder causing Tommy to wince in pain.

James took his hand back with an apologetic look, "Sorry, forgot how injured you are, and hey don't worry, I know you don't know where he is." At this, he leaned his elbows down to rest on his knees and looked over to the other gangster, "But you know."

The gangster began to sputter, save for a black eye and a few cuts he was looking alright.

"Shhhhhh, it's alright, I know you know, and I know you are wanting to keep it secret," James said pleasantly.

"Maybe it is because you are loyal or you still fear your Chief more than us but I want to help make your decision much simpler." James held his hand open for the gangster to see the coin.

The coin rose slowly from his palm and began to spin and turn slowly, "Manipulating a coin was one of the first things I learned to do." The coin rose to the level of the gangster's eyes and drew closer to him. The gangster leaned back as much as he could, fear growing in his eyes.

"It proved rather therapeutic and a great way to improve my control over the finer things." James kept the coin at eye level with the gangster before turning it so its thin side was facing the man's face.

"One of the games I used to help me with moving the coin was to give me to the count of 5, to move it." The look on James' face was no longer a smile, but rather a pensive look as he reminisced about his past. "If I moved it at 5 I got a treat, if I didn't I had to try again."

The coin then moved smoothly and quickly from the gangster's eye line and hovered over Tommy's thigh, its thin side facing down towards it.

"Right now, we are going to play that game," James' face now was emotionless, but his eyes glinted with a hint of fury. "Let us begin..."

Tommy meanwhile was straining with what little strength he had to break the ropes that held him with no success. He looked desperately at his comrade who had gone deathly pale at the floating coin, now with his eyes glued directly on the coin as it hovered over Tommy's thigh.

"1..."

The coin began to move slowly down toward Tommy's thigh. "Hey man, I told you I don't know anything!"

"2..."

"Listen I got some money, some drugs, what do you want that I have that I can give!"

"3..."

The coin was now brushing against Tommy's pant leg. He looked over at his comrade and yelled, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, TELL HIM WHAT HE WANTS TO KNOW!"

"4..."

The coin was beginning to press into his leg, at first it was just a little bit of discomfort but as the milliseconds went by it was starting to feel painful.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU ALL MOTHER F$%#KERS, I WILL KILL YOU AND BREAK YOUR F$#KING LEGS I SWEAR TO GO..."

"5..."

Tommy began to scream as the coin cut through his pants, then skin, and proceeded to go straight down into his leg now passing through muscle and scrapping past his thigh bone.

After everything he had been through this was by far the worst thing he had ever felt, it was the worst thing he had felt in his whole life!

James meanwhile had kept his gaze firmly on Tommy, still expressionless, but the glint of fury had grown to be a look of pure coldness, there was nothing merciful or forgiving in his gaze.

Finally, the coin finished going through Tommy's leg and hovered a few inches past the exit wound. Blood leaked from Tommy's leg and began to make a distinct pattering sound as it spilled onto the floor.

James' attention switched to look at the horrified gangster. Tommy was sobbing, and his gangster comrade had a look of pure terror as the bloodied coin moved smoothly into position over his thigh.

"Do I need to count to 5 again?"

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*Back to the current time. Inside refueling station.

Eddie was impressed, to say the least.

After the kid pulled his weird bloody magic trick the Blackwater gangster had sung like a canary. Penguin would be pleased though the location of their Chief was a bit of a problem.

'Not my problem, let the Boss and kid figure it out,' Eddie thought as the guards made the prisoners stand to move them out.

James meanwhile had moved his chair back and walked up the stairs to the elevated overlook of the station. He would let Eddie tell Penguin the good news, he knew that Eddie would report back how well James had done.

Adjusting his wrist cuffs and re-buttoning his suit he turned to make his way to the back door when a loud crash sounded from a window of the station.

One of Penguin's men guarding the outside had been thrown through the window to land unconscious on the main floor.

Eddie along with the other men moving the prisoners immediately pulled out their guns but were too slow to stop a blur swing through the window and begin taking them out.

James was shocked, to say the least. Their attacker had swung in kicking one of the men straight into the water. Disconnecting from their grappling device, they proceed by throwing a high kick into Eddie's throat while spinning to throw some sort of knives at the other men that exploded from impact into white smoke.

From the smoke, the attacker threw kicks, punches and even flipped a few men while disarming them in the process. It was quite impressive especially considering it was done in less than 2 minutes!

While the fight continued, James looked at the lights illuminating his elevated overlook. He pointed his index finger at each one which began to cause them to crack and shattered. Eventually, putting him in near darkness, hiding his face with his silhouette still being seen if looked at closely.

The fight downstairs meanwhile came to a close with Eddie swinging his baseball bat only for the attacker to duck and kick his legs out from under him. Eddie landed on his back and before he could even react got a kick to the head knocking him out.

The attacker stopped to take a look around his immediate area before going into a more relaxed stance. The smoke from their throwing knives had dissipated quickly leaving the main level visible.

James finally got a good look at their intruder only to be in shock. Black hair with a domino mask obscuring his face. The figure had a tight black cape surrounding them with a yellow interior, the uniform underneath looked like a light body armor colored red with a large R over the heart.

But that wasn't what shocked James, Gotham had much crazier-looking costumed vigilantes and criminals than this guy. No, what shocked him was based on the height and figure he was dealing with a kid!

'Can't be more than 13...' he thought.

And before he could stop himself he spoke over the railing of the overlook, "Umm sorry but...Who are you?"