NOT IN CONTINUITY, NOR IS IT PLANNED TO BE IN CONTINUITY. JUST A SAMPLE.

Gotham City
11:50 PM

The bike roared while I swerved through the mild downtown traffic. It was coming on midnight, and I had an appointment to make. The holographic map in my HUD showed the quickest route to my destination. It took just a few minutes to get to the GCPD's headquarters. I stood on the roof of the building across the street from GCPD headquarters and activated a button on my wrist. Wayne Security Tech installed all the cameras inside Gotham Central last year, along with a few pinhole mics that found themselves embedded in key locations.

Device 210434
Listening: 2nd floor break room

"So that's when the bear stops and looks at the hunter and he says 'You just don't come here for the hunting, do you'?"

Device 210437
Listening: Lt. A. Flass' Office

"Yeah, my shift ends in a few minutes. I'll be at the meet at about two, and then we can talk about the cut there. Just hope that sonofabitch Skeevers doesn't keep me too late."

Device 210440
Listening: (GCPD Night Shift Commander) Dep. Commissioner A. Probson's Office

"Come and knock on our door, we've been waiting for you!
Where the kisses are hers, and hers, and his. Three's Company, too!"

Device 210438
Listening: Col. J. Gordon's Office
N/A.... No Activity

Good. That meant he was waiting. I shot out a grapnel line and swung from the roof, gliding over the street below to the roof of Gotham Central. The night shift were half asleep and sloppy. The cameras and bugs guided me through the halls of Gotham Central, all the way way down to the basement in ten minutes. From there it's to the morgue, where the only friend I have in this city was waiting.

"You're late," the dark haired man in the suit said before he lights up a cigarette.

Identified:
James W. Gordon
Colonel, Gotham City Police Department

"Is it another OD?"

"Yep. This makes the sixth one in a month."

Junkies. They've been dropping like flies all over the city for the last two months. The heroin in their veins has up has been purer than anything they've ever had and then some. Toxicology reports said the vials have an extra dose in them. Something I hadn't been able to identify. Gordon and I were the only ones who seem to care at all. As far as most of the police were concerned, who cares if another junkie drops dead?

"Let's see."

Gordon led me to a sheet covered slab where the latest victim was. He pulled it back, kicking the sensors in my mask into overdrive. A man, appearing to be in his mid to late 40's. There were track marks all up and down his arms and legs. A long time drug addict. The medical examiner already had his chest cavity open, the organs packed away in a freezer somewhere. All that is window dressing though. The real action was on his face. Like all the others, his face was contorted into a sick and twisted grin that pulled back his lips and exposed a set of sickly green gums juxtaposed with bright red blood.

"It's the heroin, isn't it?"

I nodded. "That's the only explanation. Someone's tainting Gotham's drug supply."

"I would put my money on a rival dealer. Last I heard, the Council were pushing most of the H through the city along with their front man, Jeff Skeevers. Someone must have got tired of them getting all the profit."

The HUD blinked rapidly three times, snapping photos of the cadaver and sending them back to my harddrive at home. Gordon pulled the sheet back over the tarp when I finished.

"That's a good theory. I'll look into it. You should get home, Gordon. It's late. You're family will be worried about you."

Gordon flinched and quickly dug his hands into his pocket. He's trying hide his missing wedding ring. He's much too late on that front. I noticed it the last time we met. That and the fact that his partner, Sergeant DeWolffe, both disappeared about the same time.

"I'll be alright. What I want to is what are you going to do? I tried sweating some of the street dealers out there and see what they knew about it. They all clammed up in a hurry. Even when I threatened them with jail. They didn't flinch."

I turned away from Gordon and begin to walk out of the morgue.

"I'll make them flinch."

Two Days Later
Krank Co. Toy Factory
1:52 AM

Nearly 48 hours of tearing up the underworld has led me here. The freelance dealers for once are working in harmony, getting their smack from the same source: this place. I gently lifted up the window pane and stepped lightly inside the factory's assembly line floor. The ultraviolet lenses of my cowl activated, brightly showing everything hidden by shadow. I approached a set of chemical vats placed on the floor. There was fresh residue all over. I rubbed my finger through the vat and get residue on my finger tip. That was more than enough sample for the computers in my suit and the uplink it has with the computer back home. A few seconds later, it finished combing through the database before showing the results on my HUD.

Residue Result:

75% Diacetylmorphine aka Heroin
Street name: "Up, Up, and Away!"

15% Inositol
Primarily use: cutting agent

10% Unknown Substance
No matches with known chemicals in database

The results were interesting to say the least. Three quarters pure heroin is more than enough to kill almost all the junkies in the city and tri-county area who grew up with shots of smack cut down to ten and five percent. But it's the unknown substance that interested me the most. My databases are connected to the drug and chemical databanks of the DEA, FBI, SHIELD, and ATF. There's no known chemical compound that they don't have. But that would come later. For now, I needed to keep climbing the ladder. I took out most of the street dealers and middlemen pushing the poison, now it was time to take out the source.

The sound of a door opening a few hundred feet away drew my attention. I melded back into the shadows as three men entered the room. One of them towered over the others while one wore a three-piece suit and the third is dressed in a suit with a cowboy hat on his head and a lasso on his hip. I deactivated the UV lenses and boot up the facial recognition software.

"Can we go get some burgers?" The large man asked his two smaller partners.

Identified:
Raymond Bloch aka Ray Block aka Ox
Three arrests for assault & armed robbery
Known associates: Daniel Brito & Jackson Brice
Known method(s) of attack: Brute strength

"We got a job to do, Ox. Stop thinking with your stomach all the time!" The man in the suit said.

Identified:
Daniel Brtio aka Fancy Dan
Arrests for shoplifting, kidnapping, & racketeering
Known associates: Raymond Bloch & Jackson Brice
Known method(s) of attack: Guns, martial arts

"Wish ya'll would pipe the hell down!"The cowboy grumbled. "It's almost two in the goddamn morning!"

Identified:
Jackson Brice aka Montana
Arrests for armed robbery & kidnapping
Known associates: Raymond Bloch & Daniel Brito
Known method of attack(s): Lasso, knives

Three of them to the one of me. The one called Ox might be a problem. I pulled a small pad from my belt, and stuck it on the middle finger of my right, gloved hand. The glove and pad let out a soft, electric whine. I crept through the dark while they talked.

"Willie got pinched last night by the cops."

"Wasn't the cops that did it. It was that freak Batman. The cops were just on clean-up duty."

"Damn. Willie didn't know this is where we make the H, did he?"

"Naw, we always used Sam as a buffer. He came here to pick the shit up and then pass it on to Willie and the others."

"Well, if the Batman comes...I'll be ready. I don't give a damn what he can do. Nobody can beat the Ox!"

Taking the opening, I flicked the pad at Ox. It twirled through the air, a small spark shooting out and arcing with electricity. The pad slapped against Ox's neck and sent out a one time burst of 20,000 volts.

"Ggggk!"

The big man crumpled to the ground and convulses. His two friends ignored his convulsions, instead opting to put their guards up. Montana pulls a knife while Dan goes for the gun.

"Your friend didn't live up to his promise," I said as I step out of the shadows. "Can you?"

I tossed a batarang sidearm from the hip. It knocked the gun from Dan's hand and continued on an arc that sliced Montana's lasso into two bits of rope. I pounced on the man, kicking Montana in the chest and driving him to the ground. A well aimed punch to a nerve ending sends waves and waves of pain through Montana's body. He squealed in pain before another punch to the forehead knocked him out.

Dan was in the process of going for his gun when I stepped in the way. The gangster crouched into a defensive stance as I lashed out with a kick. He countered my karate chop and attacked with a roundhouse kick. I stepped back and held my cape, spinning it into Dan's face to disorient him. He stepped backwards as a reflex. It's more than enough time for me to lash out again with a grapple, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground in a submission hold. I tightened my grip around his neck.

"All I need to do is apply a three more pounds of pressure to your neck and pop your jugular. You're going to tell me everything there is to know about this operation. Who is making it, who is selling it, who is being paid off, and who pays you..."

I applied two and a half more pounds of pressure to his neck.

"Talk!"

He talks.

They always talk.