Bruce knew he couldn't break the lock as too many cops were around, and they might hear the noise it would make. The high police presence also prevented the possibility of picking the lock. If he was going to get inside the maintenance room, Bruce realized he needed to bypass the door entirely.

Walking calmly around the side of the room, Bruce examined his surroundings as if he were heading someplace else and never intended to enter the locked room. A beam of concrete, supporting the next level of the parking garage, prevented the air conditioning ductwork from being installed up high, and the flat gray metal of the rectangular shaft ran along the floor instead. Bruce followed it until he found what he was looking for, a large vent.

Pulling out of his pocket a pair of thick leather work gloves, Bruce put them on and glanced around before taking hold of the edge of the vent cover. The cover was a square frame with a series of horizontal slats at evenly spaced intervals from top to bottom for controlling airflow. Safe from observation for the moment, Bruce pulled hard on the upper right corner of the frame until the securing bolt broke away enough for him to change his grip to the sides of the frame. Pulling carefully, Bruce leaned back and used his weight against the vent cover. It bent slightly in the middle before coming completely loose from the ductwork. Setting the cover aside, Bruce vanished into the vent and headed toward the maintenance room.

Because the air duct ran along the floor, the flimsy metal was supported by the concrete of the parking garage, allowing him to progress without concern of it collapsing under him. Spider webs and thick dust coated everything, and they quickly accumulated on Bruce as he crawled through them in a low crouch.

When Bruce reached the end of the air shaft, he sat down inside the vent and pushed against the cover with his work boot. It bent slightly. A sturdy kick would've sent the cover flying off, but it would've also produced a great deal of noise. He opted to remain as quiet as possible. If anyone discovered him here, his disguise wouldn't be enough to explain what he was doing in a locked maintenance room.  He gently but firmly pushed until it loosened enough for him to take a hold of it and slide it to one side.

Bruce didn't bother to clean off the dust and webs clinging to him as he exited the vent since he knew he'd have to go back the same way when leaving. Setting down his toolbox, Bruce quietly lifted the lid and removed a few tools he needed. Opening the largest of the three wall mounted panels in front of him, Bruce examined the interior electronics.

Because the GCPD was situated inside a very old building, most of the rooms had already been constructed before computerized electronics and networking had been invented. The earlier construction meant most of the building's rooms were already allocated for other things. It was for this reason the maintenance room had been built in the open area of the parking garage. It wasn't the best placement, but it was the most readily available.

Three different lines of communication were responsible for all information coming in and out of the police station. The first was the data lines housed in the upright and rectangular box he examined. Picking one of the interceptors and transmitters out of the false bottom of his toolbox, Bruce plugged it into the network hub, splicing into a few wires to make the final connections and provide access to the computer systems inside the station and every other computer in the network.

Closing the door on the first control box, Bruce opened the next. The second method of information coming and going was through the telephone lines. Bruce spliced in a transmitter to send a duplicate call to the computer Alfred was setting up at Wayne Manor. If any calls were either made from the station, or received from here, an identical transmission would be relayed to Bruce's computer, making certain he knew everything he needed to know about what went on around the station.

The final communication line needing to be tapped was the main radio tower used to dispatch officers to crime scenes and coordinate all operations. Once Bruce installed his last interceptor and transmitter, he'd receive the same information back at Wayne Manor.

His work at the station was done, but Bruce forced himself to check over the job and move carefully when putting away his tools. He was so close to succeeding while remaining undetected, and he didn't want to ruin it now by accidentally leaving a single wire unconnected.

Finishing his final inspection, Bruce closed all the boxes and ducked back into the air vent, replacing the cover as best as he could. He retraced his steps through the dark and dusty shaft. When he arrived at the open cover back into the parking garage, Bruce paused for a moment, straining his senses to detect anyone nearby who might see him emerge.

Sliding out of the vent, Bruce dusted himself off and put the cover back, forcefully bending it at the corner to hold it in place over the opening. Checking his surroundings again, Bruce made certain no one had seen him and he was out of sight of any cameras. Taking his toolbox, Bruce walked back to the van. Although he appeared calm, his heart was racing. At any minute, he expected to hear alarms go off and start having to run from police officers trying to apprehend him.

He reached the van and climbed in, starting up the motor and driving toward the exit of the parking garage.

"Finished already?" the policeman at the guard shack asked. "You've only been here twenty minutes."

"Doesn't take long to check things out when nothing needs fixing," Bruce answered. He handed the clipboard back to the guard again. "Would you sign the bottom there to acknowledge I checked things out?"

"Sure thing," the cop agreed, taking the clipboard and quickly scratching out his signature on the bottom line.

"Thank you much," Bruce said when he took back the papers. He resisted the urge to hurry away, taking his departure slow and steady to avoid suspicion. As the police station grew smaller in his rear view mirror, he breathed a little easier and wondered how Alfred was doing with his part of the operation; Bruce would find out when he reached Wayne Manor.

                                                                                                    ***

"What's the situation here?" Bruce asked as he entered the dining room they'd turned into their unofficial command post.

"The computers are online and receiving," Alfred explained. He gestured to the three server towers, monitors, and keyboards for the computers he'd set up. "We have multiple hard drives in each server tower, but with the amount of data traffic, they could fill up rather quickly."

"We'll need to write a program to filter the information," Bruce replied. "We don't want anything of a personal nature unless it's related to crime. I want to keep our intrusion to a minimum. It's necessary to find out what we need, but I don't care for poking our noses where they don't belong."

"I quite agree, Master Bruce," Alfred concurred. "You do realize this sort of eavesdropping is illegal? It seems strange to be breaking the law in order to stop criminals."

"Do I detect a criticism?" Bruce asked.

"I'm merely making an observation, Master Bruce," Alfred answered. "One can't go into a situation like this without considering it from different angles. When one crosses a moral or legal line, no matter how justified, it may become easier to do so again, perhaps with even less motivation in each subsequent instance."

"I don't like this any more than you do, Alfred," Bruce agreed. He sighed heavily and sat down across from his butler. "I'd be in favor of following the law if the law hadn't been hijacked by the criminals we're trying to catch. How can you catch criminals when they're the ones writing and enforcing the law? With bought judges and cops, we can't do this the legal way. Once we clean out the judicial system and ensure the criminals we catch will get a fair trial, we can bring Gordon in on it and work with the police to uphold the law. Until then, we'll have to go around it and work on the outside."

"As you wish, Sir," Alfred accepted.

"I appreciate the additional input," Bruce commended him. "A fresh set of eyes keeps me from going too far. As you said, we are crossing the line; it would be very easy to justify going further than we should. The more I get into this, the more I'm going to rely on your help to keep the proper perspective."

"Of course, Master Bruce," Alfred agreed.

"Let's get started," Bruce suggested. He pulled over a keyboard and turned the monitor toward him. "We know of two crooks right now, Judge Leeson and Officer Cunningham. Let's do a search for anything with their names in it."

Alfred nodded in agreement, clicking away at his own keyboard.

"I've got something here," Bruce mentioned as his computerized inquiries yielded several data entries. He opened the first one and scanned the information contained inside. "It would seem Internal Affairs has their suspicions about Cunningham. He's been involved in several highly suspect shootings, but either the evidence or witnesses have all vanished, forcing them to drop each investigation. They know he's dirty, but they can't prove anything yet."

"Perhaps this might help," Alfred offered. "I have an intercepted email to Officer Cunningham, setting up a meeting for tonight."

"Who's it from?" Bruce asked.

"There isn't a name, only an I.P. address," Alfred explained.

"As it stands right now, I don't have enough computer skills to trace the origins," Bruce said. "We'll need to take a more direct approach and make an appearance at the meeting ourselves."

"Will this be a direct confrontation?" Alfred asked.

"I hope not," Bruce answered. "I have no way of knowing how many might be showing up to the meeting, or what weapons they might be bringing along. Besides, I don't want them knowing anyone is investigating them. They've been conducting their criminal activities for some time, and I don't want them getting cautious. We need them operating in the open where we can get the evidence we need to take them down."

"I'll put the equipment back in the van," Alfred offered.

"I'll remove the magnetic decals from the outside and change the license plates in case the van is spotted," Bruce added. "But, let's hope they don't see us, or we may end up having to dodge bullets."