The Gotham City Diamond Exchange
12:40 AM"If anyone wants to make for the door, feel free to do so now. Just don't expect any of my guys to take too kindly to your inhospitable behavior."
The after-hours workers at the Exchange had already been forced to their knees by a group of masked men brandishing high-powered rifles. Each mask was of a different animal - one, the muscle of the group, was an Ox, while the two men guarding the entrance were a lion and a tiger, respectively - but it was the three commanding the room that stood out most. The tallest, lankiest member wore a Shark's head, brandishing a large duffel bag full of tools that he'd just used to break open the safe. The middlest one wore a Vulture's head, holding up a large and very intimidating body-strapped minigun that had easily cut through the reinforced front entrance doors within seconds. And the shorter, normally sized one - wearing a Fox's head - was holding up a cellphone that was set to voice chat with the group's leader, who sat idly by in an unknown location miles away. His features hidden by an affixed charcoal skull, save for his wild eyes, the individual on the small screen placed his hands together and casually leaned forward from what looked to be behind a desk. While few had ever seen him without his mask, most knew his name extremely well, given that he'd spent many years terrorizing Gotham's East End district: Roman Sionis, known more commonly as The Black Mask."You may be asking yourselves how this is going to go. You may even be thinking that if you'll co-operate with us and let these gentlemen take what they came for, you'll be spared any undue unpleasantness and be allowed to walk free. You'd only be partially correct."
Black Mask's voice echoed loudly from the phone's speaker, commanding the attention of every hostage that had even considered keeping their head down and waiting out the scenario before it escalated into something truly horrific. The False Face Society of Gotham hadn't earned their reputation with kindness, as their leader had been proven a highly sadistic madman since even well before he'd suffered a disfiguring injury that had permanently grafted the death's head mask to his face. This personality type seemed only to attract like-minded individuals, from extremely violent ex-cons who had beaten their rap or been able to afford a mob lawyer that could get them off to complete schizophrenics whose visual and audio hallucinations compelled them to commit acts of cruelty. Sionis was able to keep them all under his thumb with a simple ploy: attain lots of money and considerable power. And when lacking in either, work fast and dirty to replenish. This was a time of replenishment, unfortunately for everyone else in the building."My empire is expanding rapidly. Gotham is looking for a new figurehead to steer the direction of organized crime, and while some of you may think that role belongs to someone like The Penguin, being the respectable businessman that he is, you would be sorely mistaken. Black Mask is the false face of this false city, no one else.""And one can't be the 'face' of anything without a boatload of scratch. Boys?"
As if in a trance, each armed thug repeated Mask's mantra in a cold, dead baritone.
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
"Black Mask is the false face of a false city."
Sionis made a gesture with his fist, indicating that they cease their chant."As they said. We're cleaning out your tainted wares, seeing as though they were bought and paid for by the mob families that your employers have spent so many years trying to distance themselves from. And why wouldn't they? Such a mark on your clients' reputations must be removed like a cancer attacking the nervous system: with immediacy."
The Lionhead and Tigerhead audibly chuckled at this, having been the former muscle for those aforementioned families."That's just sensible business. We're simply extending the courtesy of cutting out the middle man."
On cue, the Vulturehead raised the minigun and opened fire into the ceiling, causing every hostage to either scream out in abject terror or to drop directly onto the floor in an attempt to dodge the onslaught of dust, plaster, and debris that exploded out from above them."And if anyone tries to call the cops before business is concluded? Consider that a preview of coming attractions."
Pulling the camera closer to himself, Black Mask's breath behind the mask became audibly elevated, creating a tense, horrifying image of a man who seemed overly excited at the prospect of death and destruction should anyone be brave enough to fall out of line. "As for the rest of you, don't worry. You'll be free to leave once we do. The only stipulation to this rather generous deal is that some of you... won't be leaving entirely unscathed."
Pushing ahead a cart from within the vault, a man wearing a Panda mask presented a large rectangular object hidden beneath a heavy tarp. Stopping in the middle of the showroom, the Pandahead swiftly removed the tarp, revealing something that made each hostage turn a shade of white: a large timer attached to a couple of gasoline barrels, which had several pieces of dynamite strapped to them each and wired to a panel behind the display. It became evident that despite the robbery, Black Mask was playing for more than a few expensive cases of diamonds. He was on a quest for blood."And yes. That is entirely what you think it is. Shark?"
The large Sharkhead made his way over to the timer, setting it for three minutes flat. Despite many of the hostages calling out for mercy, the thug didn't hesitate to flick the bomb's activator switch. A loud ticking began, and the gunmen quickly shuffled off to collect duffel bags of wares that the Tiger and Lion had piled up next to the entrance. "Remember to scream, ladies and gentlemen. It'll be the last sound most of you will be able to generate on this mortal coil. And nothing lasts in the memory of the survivors, if any, longer than a scream."3:00
Giving a condescending parting wave, Black Mask's image disappeared from the phone instantaneously as the call was cut. The Foxhead took the butt of his gun and smacked it hard against a hostage's jaw, knocking the man hard onto the ground before lifting his weapon and training it back onto the hostages. The elder men and women shrieked, while the younger men and women quietly sobbed to themselves, unable to process that this was actually happening.
"None of you fucks make a move! You heard Black Mask, you're already dead! Doesn't matter how you die tonight, whether by a bomb or by a bullet! I'm happy to oblige either way!"
As many of the hostages began whispering silent, tense prayers to whomever they believed in, a miracle seemed to happen. One by one, the lights in the room seemed to quickly and violently disperse under an unseen attack by a projectile force. Spooked, the masked men fired wildly into the air, unaware of what was happening, but doing the job of unwittingly taking the rest of the lights out for the third party that had seemingly arrived."Black Mask isn't in a position to give orders."
With the lights having completely blackened out the room, the Foxhead began to back away from his starting position, holding his weapon tightly against his chest as he strained to look for any source of visibility. All he could feel next was the tightening of some sort of cable, as it wrapped itself around his neck and lifted him rather effortlessly off of the ground and into the rafters - where he promptly fell unconscious from the pressure of an executed blow."...and neither are you."
The other False Faces began to panic, hearing that distinctive growl of a voice seem to reverberate from all around the room at them. Obviously being in Gotham, they recognized the voice immediately. And despite each of them being hardened criminals with multiple homicides under their belt, a few immediately considered dropping their weapons and running. There wasn't a man in this city that had tangled with The Bat and won in over fifteen years, and none of them felt particularly confident that they were about to be the exception. Especially in pitch black conditions, where they couldn't even see their guns infront of their faces, much less some living bogeyman who had made a regular habit of bringing down guys like them.2:00
"Fox? Fox, where are you?! Where did you go, man?! I can't see shit!"
The large man, Shark, heard the sound of crackling leather behind him. Turning and firing his weapon wildly, he watched as a few bullets sparked off of the walls and illuminated the dark figure that was gliding directly towards him. With an impressive wingspan covering his descent, The Batman only made a single expression as he closed in: one of unbridled rage, a look that tore through the thug's soul and made him immediately regret his already questionable decisions in life. Before he knew it, he was out too, and all that had given his location away was the gruesome sound of hard bones shattering under soft flesh."AAARGH!"
Landing on the floor with a silent backflip, The Dark Knight's cowl gave him a readout of the darkened room through a sequenced infrared and night vision HUD. The Vulturehead was beginning to back towards a wall, still keeping a firm hold on the minigun. Batman sneered, realizing that if the idiot started opening fire, the room would be littered with the corpses of civilians at best. At worst, he'd strike the gas canisters attached to the bomb, blowing all of them sky-high. An additional sensor in the cowl indicated that the Vulturehead's pulse was rapidly rising, all but guaranteeing such a drastic measure would be taken soon. With a careful reach into the back of his belt, The Batman produced a remote Batarang, patterned with an artificial intelligence that could allow the wielder to control the path of its trajectory.
"S-Stay back! I'm warnin' you, freak! J-Just let this one go and back off! Back off or I'll shoot everyone in this fuckin' room, you hear me?!"
Raising the Batarang behind his head, Batman ignored the fact that if this didn't work, he'd provoke the man into jumping the gun and launching an assault. So this had to work, and it had to be done in one shot. "I hear you."
With a careful pause, the eyes behind the cowl's lenses closed. He vaulted forward and tossed with precision, leaving the projectile to sail through the air and fly just above the Vulturehead's position. Automatic sensors in the Batarang locked onto the criminal's position, and after a spin, the metal shuriken came flying back down in an arc, driving a hard thrash into the back of the Vulturehead's skull. As he stumbled forward, completely taken off guard, Batman leaped into the air and drove both boots into the Vulturehead's chest, sending him careening directly into the wall behind him. The impact shook the room, and Batman landed, standing over the unconscious form of the Vulturehead as he remained partially embedded into the now caved-in bricks.1:00
The Ox, Lion, and Tiger still remained, but Batman's attention was brought directly to the bomb. The fifty-nine-second countdown had already begun, and he wasn't surely engaging with the remaining three would be as beneficial towards getting the hostages out of harm's way. Sprinting for the bomb whilst searching in his belt for a pair of pliers, The Caped Crusader immediately felt an immense amount of pressure hit the back of his spine. Knocked to the ground, Batman immediately crawled onto his back, only to find that the Oxhead had gain a clear advantage over his peers: on top of his mask, he had managed to find and strap a pair of night-vision goggles to his face."Heh. Not so scary when youse isn't under the cover a' dark."
Throwing a massive punch directly towards The Dark Knight, the Oxhead's fist merely dislodged a chunk of plaster cement as Batman rolled backward. Throwing down a haymaker, the Ox forced the vigilante to go on the defensive, launching his knees up and catching both of his enemy's hands onto the armor surrounding his knees. Neither hit seemed to phase the Oxhead, seemingly boasting a high tolerance for pain. "That all youse got?"
Spotting the Lionhead approach out of the corner of his eye, having followed the sounds of the scuffle, The Caped Crusader removed a grapnel gun from his belt and fired the harpoon-shaped hook directly at the Lionhead's shoulder, piercing it so hard that the hook became stuck in the wailing criminal's flesh. With a massive tug, Batman swung the Lionhead's body and tossed him directly into the Oxhead, sending him backward in a more staggered state as the Lionhead collapsed in a heap. The Caped Crusader steadied himself for another attack, shooting the Ox a glare."I can always give more."
Lunging himself into the air with a front flip to provide the necessary momentum, Batman brought down a hard elbow into the Oxhead's chest, followed by a flying roundhouse kick, a hard Muay Tai knee to the face, a series of jabs to the criminal's sternum, and finally a swinging haymaker uppercut. The Ox stumbled backward less than gracefully, managing to hit one of the diamond displays to narrowly catch himself from falling. While his enemy wasn't far from out, he wasn't exactly down either. Feeling a tightness begin to swell up in his lungs, Batman couldn't help but think to himself that if he were just a few years younger, this would have been over by now. But in the forefront of his mind, the vigilante remained fixated on the timer for the bomb. The limitations of age being a factor or not, all of them were quickly running out of time.0:30Wrap this up, Bruce...
Momentarily caught off guard by the stakes at hand, Batman snapped back to attention as soon as the Oxhead composed himself and began to rush towards the masked vigilante. Nearly four hundred pounds of sheer muscle shook the room as he approached, and to The Dark Knight's right, the other one still standing - the Tigerhead - had managed to find one of the fallen guns, preparing to use the noise of the conflict to aim directly at him. There were at least a couple of methods to quickly take out one of his attackers now, but there weren't many to take both out at the same time. Less than that to take both of them down and
dismantle the bomb. But there was certainly a way, if he timed it just right.0:20
Tucking and rolling just as the Oxhead was inches away from grabbing him, Batman pushed himself off of the ground and straightened himself into a full-body double kick. The heels of his boots landing squarely into the Oxhead's spine, The Dark Knight watched as the Tigerhead's gunshot, originally meant for him, pelleted the shoulder and kneecap of the Oxhead. Unable to keep himself standing for very much longer after that, the Ox shrieked in pain as he tumbled over much to the Tigerhead's surprise, falling directly into him with all four-hundred of those aforementioned pounds. The two men collided so hard that they sent the cart that held the bomb backward, giving it a rolling start as Batman grabbed the cart and started pushing it with a run.0:10
Giving himself no time to think it over even once, The Caped Crusader let the cart loose as it rocketed towards the door to the vault of jewels that had been left wide open after the robbery. Hearing the bomb smack against the back of the wall inside, Batman sprinted directly for the vault door and grabbed it with both hands, pushing the entirety of his strength into pulling the massive metal door closed. After a momentary struggle, the vault door eventually gave in, it's hydraulics snapping firmly shut just as Batman counted the timer down under his breath. There were less than three seconds left by the time that he dived backward, leaped over a nearby display, and braced himself.
Papers went flying, powdery bits of debris from the ceiling dropped like pellets of hail, most of the hostages screamed in the firm belief that their lives were over, the glass in each display case shattered instantaneously and something in the floor seemed to shift. But upon opening his eyes, The Batman looked out and breathed a sigh of relief. No one had been harmed, much less killed by the blast. The vault had been strong enough to contain it. Black Mask's plan had been foiled, even if only for the moment.
Rising to his feet, Batman slowly caught himself on a display, feeling the tightness in his lungs return. It was only a fleeting feeling, but it was enough to make him stop for a moment to collect himself. Then he began to breathe heavily, just as strained as the night that he'd nearly sent the thug working for The Clock King plunging towards certain death. He didn't know what was wrong, specifically, but he could feel that something was. It didn't feel like a heart attack, though experiencing any sign of one would have been perfectly understandable at that moment. And with Alfred's still-too-recent death still fresh in his mind, the possibility of a stroke was certainly ruled out...
Nevertheless, The Dark Knight rose into a straight stance as the hostages finally began to realize that they hadn't been blasted to kingdom come, and that they had in fact just been saved. Some of them crossed themselves and began a silent prayer, others looked towards the void of the darkness to try and catch a glimpse of their savior. The only thing that Batman himself noticed was that the Tigerhead - the only one still conscious, after all this, was still reaching in vain for a gun. He was partially crushed under the Ox, but was determined to get a shot in regardless.
The Batman stomped on the thug's hand as he moved past, hearing a satisfying crack of several fingers followed by a loud yelp. With all of the False Facers now incapacitated, all that was left to do was tie the would-be thieves and murders up for the police to collect. But as Batman searched for several pairs of cuffs that were stashed away in his utility belt, a message sent directly from Commissioner Gordon's phone appeared in the bottom left of his cowl's HUD.
City Morgue... Fifteen Minutes
The Dark Knight sighed to himself.
At this point, he was far past in the mood for anything else.Perfectly timed as always.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice."
Commissioner James Gordon entered the waiting elevator and turned, holding the door open for his caped companion. Despite his overwhelming tiredness from the fight less than an hour prior, The Batman nodded once and complied, taking a step forward and turning towards the front as Gordon pressed the button that had been labeled 'the icebox' by a joking attendant. Even for their usual level of secrecy, Batman could already tell that something was different about whatever this was. Jim wasn't one to keep anything regarding a case very close to the chest with him, as the nature of their relationship relied on transparency. As much transparency as a man who had yet to divulge his real name to the other could manage, at least. Still, his observation of Gordon's body language indicated that the Commissioner was unusually tense for this type of meeting. The Dark Knight remained silent about this, out of respect for an old friend."Of course.""I heard about the Diamond Exchange robbery. Black Mask?""Still in the wind. We press hard enough, Sionis will eventually play his hand.""Right. Let's just hope that whenever he does, we can contain the collateral damage. With Freeze out there and whatever the hell Clock King is doing, the last thing we need right now is another loose end running amok on the streets."
Batman narrowed his eyes. He knows that Jim didn't mean it in the way it came out, but the vigilante couldn't help but feel that it was a passing judgment on his ability to keep this madness contained. But then again, it wasn't as if it were a thought that hadn't already crossed his own mind. At any given moment, it seemed, there were threats out there that could start a rampage capable of tearing Gotham apart. He'd done his best to keep them at bay, but it had never quite been enough to keep them all in Arkham at once. There was always at least one errant psycho on the loose. Had The Dark Knight pushed himself even harder towards the beginning, he imagined, this would never have been the case. But there was always something to be said for the fact that he was still only one man.
True, there were others now. And there had been others since toward the beginning. Robin had been the first, followed by Batgirl, and the rest seemed to fall into place as the years all blurred together. But there was never a moment when The Batman didn't consider Gotham City to be his own personal responsibility. Never a second where he didn't blame himself for not holding back the chaos as well as he could have, whether that was innately true or not."I'd actually meant to catch you up to speed on a few things last night, but I figured I'd be better off staying out of whatever you and your, erm... friend in the stars and stripes were up to."
The Batman outwardly ignored the comment. This was hardly the first time that Gordon's inherent bias against the so-called "superhuman" community had come about. Through no fault of his own, Gordon was an honest cop who had worked most of his life trying to establish order in a city full of chaos. The only times that he had frankly encountered anyone with special abilities on the streets of Gotham, they were usually the kind to try and lay waste to the men and women under his employ. The world beyond Gotham was one that he didn't fully ever understand, and The Dark Knight suspected that he wasn't a man who cared to. As far as he was concerned, there was the world that the men in capes and the superpowered individuals lived in, and then there was the real world. The fact that Gordon knew that Batman didn't possess any sort of special abilities was probably one of the only reasons that he'd come to trust the vigilante. No such complications to consider.
Though Gordon also didn't realize how needed the conversation with Director Rogers really was. The Caped Crusader was used to periods of self-doubt. It was the nature of the mission to reflect, to question everything. Fleeting moments in time where he was forced to scrutinize his own worth and assess whether he could pull himself out of the darkness. But the night that he nearly let that man fall was one that had shaken him to the core - perhaps even more than he'd known at the time. Before speaking to the Captain, Batman had considered whether it was time to re-evaluate whether he could do this anymore. Steve's words of encouragement, not to mention his fairly blunt honesty
was enough to inspire the vigilante to weather the storm.
After all, he was right. It wasn't his job to keep doing this forever, as much as he had spent the years telling himself otherwise. It was his job to shepherd in the next wave of people willing to put their lives on the line to protect the innocent of Gotham. And as far as a legacy was concerned, The Batman realized that he could do alot worse than what he had. It was enough to shake him from the darkest thoughts that had kept him up that night. "You know, speaking of the crazy times that we're living in. My daughter Barbara just received her doctorate over at Arkham."
Batman had already known this. Though he hadn't personally responded, the former Batgirl had shared her excitement over the new position with the rest of the family. There were congratulations shared, plans made to celebrate in person. The truth was, The Dark Knight didn't know how to feel about it yet. Though he would always fully support Barbara in whatever endeavor that she sought out, his growing cynicism towards the capability of Arkham Asylum to keep maniacs like The Scarecrow, Two-Face, Victor Zsasz and other regular denizens of it's hallowed halls made him wonder if her efforts weren't more useful out on the streets as Batwoman. But he wasn't one to criticize, especially when Barbara's idealistic crusade was one that he desperately wished that he could believe in."Congratulations. You must be proud."
The Commissioner smirked. "Oh, I am. Immensely. She strong-armed me for too many years to do something more about the situation over there, and I would always have to tell her that it wasn't a lowly cop's job to ensure that a high-security mental asylum kept it's inmates at bay. You just had to trust in the institutions that put them in place, no matter how many times they let us down. Barbara never believed that was enough."
Batman glanced over his shoulder at Gordon, who lit a fresh sample of tobacco in his pipe."Do you worry about her being over there? It isn't exactly the most ideal environment."
Gordon scoffed, with a light smoke billowing out of his nostrils."Only in as much as any father worries about his little girl. But I've learned time and time again that she's made of much sterner stuff than her old man ever was. She knew the risks long before now, and she understands any potential risk that comes with spending time among the patients. Besides, it isn't as though I could talk her out of it if I even tried. Stubborn as her mother, that one..."
The Dark Knight couldn't help but relate. He had always harbored some doubt in the idea that his own sons - whether it be Dick, Jason, Tim, or Damian - truly understood the risks necessary to embark on the same line of work that he'd trained himself to take on. When they initially became Robin, Batman had intentionally made it hard on all of them. Tried to get them to see that this path wasn't easy, that they were better off pursuing something resembling a normal life. But they each had their reasons, an unstoppable drive to keep trying to stay ahead and keep up the good fight. Even if he worried, he'd never be able to say that he hadn't been proud of them for defying his attempts to warn them and become something greater than he could've imagined.
Though in two notable cases, that journey was still a work in progress..."Anyway, I just thought you might like to know that there's at least one doctor out there that we can both depend on. God knows, I've had my doubts about that place since the beginning. But if Barbara can make a difference with these nutjobs, maybe Arkham can still be salvaged."
The elevator dinged, indicating that they'd reached their stop. As the doors slid open, Gordon went ahead and indicated that Batman followed. Despite his apparent optimism regarding Barbara's promotion, The Dark Knight couldn't help but feel like his old friend was hiding something as they advanced. Like he was nervous and trying to use small talk to hide the true intent behind this visit. It wasn't more than a few steps forward before the vigilante felt it necessary to address the elephant in the room."Jim. Why are we here?"
Gordon was evasive, at first. But as they reached the end of a long hallway, he started to relent. There was hardly any point in keeping something from a man that many considered, though never himself, to be "The World's Greatest Detective"."Three days ago, we got word from the Coast Guard that a stiff had been found in Gotham Harbor. They were conducting a routine test on the purity of the water leading into the reservoir. Scared the hell out of a couple of divers, but we eventually flushed the body out and had it returned here for forensics to I.D."
Batman raised an eyebrow. That's all?"Those results came back this morning. And when I found out who it was, I made sure to prioritize our John Doe as a classification one. Autopsy results were to be for my eyes only, and it'll remain that way until I decide it's necessary to lift the veil. But I wanted you to see this before anyone else. The only other one to know at this point is Montoya, and I trust her to keep it quiet."
As they entered a chilled room that was practically littered with metal slabs and corpses obscured beneath white sheets, Gordon led Batman to a storage locker at the west end of the room. The Joe Doe had been marked under 'evidence', much to The Dark Knight's surprise."Do you remember the Moxon gang?"
Batman reacted to that, in as much as he could hardly forget."Lew Moxon. One of the city's earliest known gangsters. Preceded Carmine Falcone and the Maroni family by a few decades. Died of heart failure a decade ago, but lived well into his nineties."
Gordon gently pushed aside a slab on wheels that was blocking his way."Yeah, that guy. Well, there was a regular that Moxon used to pay to carry out a few low-level hits. We had him booked at least twice a year for thirty years, though he never quite made it to the state penitentiary. We actually thought we had him on a bigger case, once, but it turns out that there wasn't sufficient evidence to hold him. Save for an eyewitness who was stationed abroad. I heard that once Moxon cut ties, he sequestered himself in The Narrows. Became a junkie, eventually succumbed to the lifestyle. A sad end to a sad life, really."
Despite Gordon feeding him the details, The Batman was at a loss as to who he could be talking about. Most of Moxon's regulars had died well before the mobster passed away, and the few who lived remained at the criminal's side in his final days. The family had dissolved soon afterward, with their empire being absorbed by what was considered, at the time, to be Gotham's five families. Moxon's representatives had even tried to coax the head of Wayne Industries into taking a share, but he was swiftly turned away at the gate. Batman knew this because he distinctly remembered that day. Alfred had insisted on sanitizing the gates just after the man had left."Who was he? Did you need me to run some additional tests?"
Gordon paused, then sighed."No. Not really."
Opening the drawer to the storage locker, Gordon slowly pulled out a still-damp body. It had partially wasted away, the skin being translucent and all of the blood having long been evacuated from the now blued veins. Batman was actually shocked at the state of decay, given that it already told him that the body had been deceased for nearly two years. The Harbor should have easily torn what was left off of its skeleton, especially if it had been down there for that long.
Approaching the corpse from the other side, Batman immediately examined the head. An obviously old entry and exit wound stood out just left of the temple. That was sure to be what had killed the man, though The Dark Knight wondered if that was simply a way to hide the true method of expiration. Either way, the man had been clearly murdered."Batman, listen...""This man hasn't caused anyone any trouble for at least the last twenty-four months. If you're worried about whether this will start up any lingering gang war between the other families, you said it yourself, Jim. He was small-time."
Gordon's tone became harsh. "Would you just listen to me for a second?"
Looking up at his friend, Batman stood back from the body."I called you here because I knew you'd want to hear it from me. The victim's not just your average John Doe, and once word gets out of who he was, it'll be a media circus. I just wanted you to have a first crack at it, since it's probably in your best interest to get a lead on this."
The Dark Knight sneered.
Whatever had spooked Gordon so much about this case, the vigilante was getting tired of this."His name."
There was a long, almost deafening silence between the two."Chilton. Joseph Chilton."
And all of the world around them suddenly went mute, save for The Commissioner's next unbelievable words."Joe Chill."