Bruce punched one of the thugs several times before grabbing him by the back of the neck and shoving him face first into the wall. The black painted plaster shattered on impact, and the criminal collapsed. Without hesitation, Bruce spun around and pummeled another man to the ground.

Damien landed on one of the goons as he dropped through the hole where the skylight had been. Dragging the thug down, Damien slammed the man's skull against the hard floor and left him groaning on his back.

Working with exceptional speed, Bruce and Damien quickly put down the room full of crooks. The Boss tried to make a run for it, but a batarang knifed into the back of the man's leg and dropped him to the floor, ending his escape.

When they were in control of the room, Bruce hauled the club manager up and dumped the crook in the chair he'd been using during the meeting while Damien restrained the thugs before they recovered.

"You pay ten thousand dollars on the first of the month," Bruce accused. A voice filter applied at the base of his throat modulated the sounds of his voice so as to be robotic and unrecognizable. "Who gets that money?"

"Check with my accountant," the man sneered.

Bruce reached down and ripped the batarang free from where it was lodged in the man's leg. The club manager screamed in pain.

"You won't like it if I have to ask you again," Bruce growled.

"Drop dead!" the Boss said in defiance before spitting in Bruce's direction.

Bruce calmly turned toward Damien and nodded. Damien used one of his own batarangs to instantly kill the first of the thugs.

"When I run out of men, I'll start on you, but it won't be quick," Bruce said calmly. He held the batarang in front of the crime boss where he could clearly see his own blood dripping from the edged weapon.

"Batman!" the club manager said in terrified recognition of the batarang. His words began to spill out in a panicked jumble. "The money goes to Mayor Hill. He has some kind of deal, possibly blackmailing the DA, but I don't know what. As long as we're paid up, none of our guys get convicted."

"You said 'as long as we're paid up'. Who's we?" Bruce asked.

"The Falcone crime family has Hill on the take," the frightened man quickly answered. "The Maroni's too. About half a dozen of the larger gangs are also in on it."

"It's a wonder there's anyone actually in jail," Damien muttered.

"Have you given any money directly to Mayor Hill?" Bruce demanded, wanting concrete proof of corruption.

"No," the man denied. "I gave it to his assistant, Mr. Gibson."

"Any proof of that?" Bruce pressed.

"In the desk, top drawer," the Boss informed him. "I had my guys take pictures in case the Mayor didn't live up to his side of the bargain, blackmail."

Bruce carefully opened the drawer, checking for possible traps before removing a file folder and spilling the pictures it contained across the desk.

"Very good," Bruce said. "Since I can't have you warning the Mayor or any other criminals we're coming after them, and because you've already murdered innocent people, we're not going to let you go. However, in recognition of your cooperation, we'll make it quick and painless."

***

Bruce and Damien paid visits to the other criminal organizations paying money to the Mayor's office, and they received similar information as they had from their first interrogation. All money was funneled through the Mayor's assistant, Nate Gibson.

"Let's hope the DA feels like talking," Bruce told Damien as they exited the truck and went through the service entrance in the rear of the Gotham City courthouse.

For their final visit, they'd changed from the khaki jumpsuits of their previous disguises and put on dark suits with matching briefcases as the work clothes would've been conspicuous in the courthouse.

It was nearly dusk, but the overhead lights kept the building at the same level of illumination all day long. The lack of windows in some parts of the courthouse made it impossible for the people working there to know what time it was without looking at a watch or clock.

With their heavy workload completed for the day, most of the lawyers, court officers, judges, and security personnel had departed, allowing Bruce and Damien to easily avoid everyone who was still there and progress toward their target unhindered and unnoticed.

Stepping into the office of the District Attorney, Bruce hurled a batarang, and it slammed into the center of the desk in front of the lawyer and embedded there. The DA sat up in a fright and saw Bruce holding another of the bladed implements.

"Any sudden moves or attempts to call for help will not end well for you," Bruce warned. He stepped further into the room, and he and Damien split up, flanking the lawyer on either side.

"What do you want?" the man questioned in a quiet but calm voice.

"How is the Mayor getting you to not prosecute criminals?" Bruce asked directly.

"The gangs pay him money to keep their people out of jail, but if I don't do my part, he'll have some of them kill my family," the prosecuting attorney explained. "I never wanted to be a part of this, but he's involved with too many bad people. I couldn't protect my family all the time."

"Any proof?" Damien asked, following Bruce's earlier example on collecting evidence.

"I recorded our conversations," the DA told them. "I knew I'd never be able to stand up to him and his thugs, but if anything happened to me, the records would go public and invalidate all the cases I had to throw out. Maybe the killers I let walk would see justice then."

"They're going to see justice now," Bruce growled. "Take a vacation. Get out Gotham for a few days. You and your family don't want to be here for what's coming."

"Sure thing," the DA happily agreed.

Bruce reached across the desk and ripped the batarang loose, causing an involuntary flinch from the DA. "I'll take copies of those recordings."

***

"What are you thinking?" Bruce asked when he and Damien returned to the truck and drove away from the courthouse.

Damien was quiet for a few minutes as he tried to decide on the right words to express his thoughts. Bruce waited in silence.

"Ra's al Ghul taught me to fight and kill my enemies," Damien finally said. "Mother was of a similar philosophy. I've never agreed with the idea of letting murderers live, but I didn't want to go against your wishes, Father. You let me be Robin, and I was honored to fight at your side. When we started executing murderous thugs, I knew it was the right thing to do, but it still felt odd because you've been teaching me all these years about restraint, being a force of justice not revenge."

Bruce nodded, knowing how his actions might have been confusing for his son.

"Tonight, when you let the DA live," Damien continued. "It made things feel right again. What we're doing is justice, taking down the guilty and preserving the innocent who have been without hope for too long. I think your new path is a harmony between the teachings of the League of Assassins and what Batman stands for. Maybe this is what you were meant to do, and I'm still proud to be a part of it."

Bruce let his son's thoughts sink in for a moment before responding.

"Words don't come easily to me," Bruce said.

"No kidding," Damien quipped.

"During your training, I noticed you holding back," Bruce explained. "It couldn't have been easy walking the tightrope between my personal code and your grandfather's more lethal version. As I watched you trying to find the balance between them, I don't think any father could've been more pleased with his son than I."

Damien wasn't used to Bruce expressing his innermost feelings, or any feelings. It was making Damien slightly uneasy, so he changed the subject.

"What's our next assignment?" he asked.

"With night coming, we can change into our standard gear," Bruce explained. "The Mayor's been running his crooked operations through his assistant, Nate Gibson. We'll pay him a visit before going to see the Mayor directly. As the primary stooge, Gibson is likely to have the most dirt. Once we have it, we'll bury the Mayor with it."

"State and Federal officials may object to us taking out elected people," Damien cautioned, trying to look at the situation tactically and plan for future threats as his father had taught him to do.

"When we get back to the cave, I'll show you a plan I've been working on," Bruce explained. "They're not going to stop us."