Batman and Robin came at the target apartment from different sides. Batman dived in through the window to take the bomber by surprise. The criminal tried to run, but Robin shouldered the door open and blocked the other exit.

"Neil Brusker," Batman said. "You built the bomb responsible for blowing up a warehouse last night."

"I didn't do anything," Neil denied.

Batman punched the bomber in the face before following with a knee to his stomach, doubling him over. Another punch to the face straightened the criminal back up and a final blow to the center of his chest drove Neil hard into the wall. Batman's glove wrapped around Neil's throat.

"There's two ways this is going to go," Batman snarled. "You're either going to tell us what we want to know, or you're going to beg to tell us."

***

Police Commissioner Gordon slammed his open hand down on the desk in frustration.

"I won't accept it!" Gordon shouted. "The Batman doesn't kill. If the evidence said he did, then it's a frame up, and I want you to find out who's behind it. Get moving!"

As the cops hastily exited the office, Gordon came out from behind his desk, put on his trench coat, and used the back stairs to access the roof. He lifted his collar around his neck to better ward off the cold.

"I didn't think I'd have to turn on the spotlight before you showed up," Gordon said, and the darkness to his left reshaped as Batman stepped out of it and into the light. "Most of the department thinks you went off the deep end. If I can't prove your innocence, this could get messy. Is it possible that League of Assassins is behind this?"

"No, Jim," Batman denied. "I did kill him."

"What?" Gordon asked, unable to believe what he'd just heard.

"His bomb killed Talia and the others in the warehouse," Batman explained.

"Since when are you an executioner?" Gordon demanded.

"I was wrong," Batman admitted.

"I'll say you were," Gordon snapped. "When the press gets a hold on this, both of us are going to end up in the public's crosshairs."

"No, Jim," Batman corrected. "I was wrong in my former methods. I was trying to fight this war like a cop, and it wasn't working. Murderers and psychopaths kill citizens of Gotham, we catch them and lock them away only for them to get out and do it again. If you have a war where only one side inflicts casualties, you can easily predict the end result. Like it or not, we're in a war for the future of Gotham, and it's time we started fighting it that way, killing the enemy and breaking their ability to continue victimizing people."

"You'll never get away with it," Gordon pointed out. "Public opinion has only barely tolerated your activities up until now. After this, the police department may be sent after you; I'll be sent after you."

"I'm going to fight this war the way I should've been fighting it all along," Batman told Gordon. "If your people are in opposition to cleaning up Gotham, they're part of the reason why this city has fallen so far and will be treated accordingly. I can save Gotham, just tell your people to stay out of my way."

Batman lunged off the side of the roof and spread his gliding cape, vanishing into the night.

Gordon went back downstairs, but his movements were mechanical as his brain was still trying to rationalize what had just happened.

The main floor of the Gotham City Police Department was jammed with desks, separated by thin walls of wood and glass but sometimes only by stacks of papers and police files. Muted conversations filled the air, either of officers conversing with each other about their cases or on the phones while working another angle of investigation. Suspended on long chains, overhead lamps hung from the ceiling to make certain the cops could see as they wrote and filed the mountains of paperwork coinciding with their jobs.

All activity and conversation stopped when Gordon walked into the room.

"What's wrong, Commish?" asked one of the detectives, a half-eaten donut in his hand and the other half stuffed in his mouth.

"We have a very serious problem," Gordon said.

***

The newscaster straightened his red-striped tie in the moments before the lights came up and the camera activated.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," the gray haired man began. "Tonight, we bring you a shocking story certain to go down in history. After what appears to have been a violent interrogation, forty-five year old Neil Brusker was killed by the Batman.

"The Caped Crusader has long been a controversial topic with some seeing him as just another psychopath, albeit one condoned by the police department, and others seeing him as the last line of defense in a city falling into total lawlessness. Commissioner James Gordon had this to say."

The reporter took a deep breath after the camera switched off and the broadcast changed to a prerecorded press conference with Gordon. The reporter watched the monitor replaying the conference so he'd be ready for his cue when it was time to start the cameras again.

On the screen, Gordon looked uncomfortable standing at the base of the steps leading into the GCPD.

"After many years of cooperation with law enforcement, Batman has gone rogue," Gordon explained. "He confessed to the killing of Neil Brusker and announced his intention to eliminate criminals in greater numbers. The GCPD has no choice but to issue a warrant for the arrest of Batman on the charge of murder."

The news reporter kept his face neutral while reporting the rest of the story.

"Longtime opponents of Batman are already using the killing of Neil Brusker as evidence Gotham has of too long relied on the protection of a vigilante," the man said to the camera. "Some are even calling for Commissioner James Gordon to be step down for his complicity with the Batman's actions over the past years."

Bruce switched off the television with the remote. Alfred stood behind the two chairs used by Bruce and Damien while watching the news report.

"With pressure mounting on the Commissioner, do you think he'll be able to deduce your identity?" Alfred questioned.

"It's certainly a possibility," Bruce confirmed. He folded his hands and stared across his knuckles at the darkened TV screen while considering the problem. "If he listed the characteristics of Batman, it shouldn't be too hard to connect the dots. What's surprising is no one figured it out before now."

"What do you mean?" Damien asked.

"Batman is mainly stationed in Gotham, so it would be reasonable to conclude the man behind the mask is a native," Bruce theorized as if he were one of the police on the hunt. "He would need to be extensively trained, probably having gone away to accomplish it. Additionally, Batman would need extreme levels of financing to support the vehicles and equipment he uses. And finally, he works with a young man with dark hair."

Bruce finished his analysis and looked toward his son, who matched the physical characteristics of Batman's partner.

"You're right," Damien agreed with Bruce. "Most villains would never believe you're Batman because of your lifestyle, but Gordon might believe it enough to do some digging."

"Whatever you intend to do, I would suggest you hurry," Alfred encouraged. "It probably won't take Commissioner Gordon any longer than the two of you to reach the same conclusion and pay us a visit."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed grimly. He pushed his way out of the wingback chair and headed into the other room.

Alfred looked toward Damien and found the young man staring intently out the window beside him.

"You seem troubled, Master Damien," Alfred commented.

"It's those stupid people protesting Gordon," Damien said as he got up from his chair and started to pace back and forth. His bottled emotions seemed to intensify as he let them out. "All this time, these people have been silent. I wonder where was their self-righteous indignation when people were being killed everywhere?"

"People like your mother?" Alfred guessed.

"Yes!" Damien emphatically agreed. "Have you noticed how some people will not lift a finger to fix a problem but they will move Heaven and Earth to stop anyone who tries? Gordon has worked hard for this city, always following the law; the citizens supported him, but Batman eliminates one murderer, and they're ready to hang Gordon from a streetlight because he's associated with someone they no longer approve!"

"It's an unfortunate reality," Alfred replied. "The people of Gotham only supported Gordon and Batman as long as the two of them fit with their personal moral code."

"Moral code!" Damien spat. "A code that protects the lives of murderers while their victims never receive justice."

"I have a feeling we've strayed into the area dealing with your feelings about Batman," Alfred assumed. "I take it you still feel Master Bruce was somewhat responsible for holding back this long?"

"If he'd started eliminating criminals sooner, she'd still be alive!" Damien snapped.

"You may blame him for the one death, but keep in mind, he blames himself for thousands," Alfred pointed out. "He's a man surrounded by death and misery. He's forced himself to hold back for so long, only to find out it was only making the problem worse. And now, it has cost him his wife. You aren't the only one to have lost in this, Master Damien. It's only a suggestion, but you might want to be lenient toward him as he certainly won't be with himself."

***

Years ago, Bruce had installed a remote transmitter in several telephone substations. It let him make calls as Batman without the possibility of it being traced back to Bruce Wayne. He'd also established a number of sensors to make sure the devices went unnoticed. If any were discovered, he'd know it instantly.

Bruce waited while the phone rang on the other end of the line. A thought in the back of his mind wondered if Talia would approve of what he was doing.

"Greetings, Detective," answered a cultured voice. "I was expecting your call."

"Ra's," Bruce said. "I need a favor."

"My agents report you avenged my daughter quite well," Ra's informed him coldly. "The League of Assassins is at your disposal. How may we be of service?"