Chapter Text
As annoying and suffocating as it was to have so many people sat together in one small office, silently Jim was thankful to have (mostly) everyone together for one meeting. There was no frustration quite like debriefing the same information seventeen times because this person was busy and that person didn’t feel like showing up.
“Here’s what we know, so far,” he began. “Jeremiah Valeska built a secret underground tunnel connecting from the basement of an abandoned warehouse to Wayne manor using enslaved citizens. Mostly children.” Jim pointed to a crude drawing of the manor done in blue crayon. He’d asked Harvey to draw up some visual aids for the meeting, seeing as there was a lot of information to be thrown out, and enlisted the help of Selina Kyle to give her agitated mind something else to focus on, at the behest of Lee.
Jim had made sure to leave a private note for himself to never do that again.
“He abducted two individuals who are currently unidentified due to the current lack of GCPD resources. As of right now, we are assuming they may have been homeless, people that wouldn’t be immediately missed if they vanished in thin air.”
“With the amount of plastic surgery that they most likely underwent, this was probably done months ago, maybe even before the bridges were blown.” Harvey cut in from beside Jim.
He nodded to his partner. “He then abducted and hypnotized Alfred while he and Bruce were temporarily separated, bringing him to Wayne manor with the Wayne look-alikes.” Across from them, Alfred mumbled something rude, causing Selina to visibly hold in her laughter. Safe to assume whatever it was the butler said, it was best not repeated to the class.
“Somehow he manages to get Bruce to the tunnel, whether he was lured there or if he found it himself is still unsure.” Jim gestures to a drawing of several stick figures labeled ‘Fake Parents’ ‘Bruce’ ‘Alfred’ and ‘Jeremiah’. Bruce had been drawn with a comically large quiff of hair, and Jeremiah was given red eyes and a pair of horns.
“Meanwhile, Lee and I are drawn to an abandoned chemical warehouse while following a lead in the Chessmen gang murders case, resulting in our subsequent capture. We get handed over to Jervis Tetch and Jeremiah’s assistant, Ecco, and are hypnotized to believe that we are now Thomas and Martha Wayne. We end up delivered to the movie theater downtown around the same time Jeremiah, Bruce and the two unknown captives arrive.” A caricature of Jervis was produced, with spirals in his eyes and an arrow which read ‘I am a loony’.
“The unknown captives are at some point shot and killed, dumped in a nearby abandoned storefront, and Lee and I take their places in the alley-”
A hand is abruptly raised. Jim sighed. “Yes, Ed?”
He glowered from where he sat beside Oswald. “Where exactly is Lee? Shouldn’t she be here if the rest of us are?”
“Dr. Thompkins is at present doing an autopsy on the bodies we’ve retrieved with Lucius. Both have already been briefed on these updates.” And also Lee and Ed had stabbed each other to the point of near hospitalization only a few short weeks ago, so Jim was less than thrilled at the prospect of the pair being placed in the same room any time soon.
“So, as I was saying, due to our being hypnotized, neither Lee nor myself recall anything that happened in the alley. The first thing we remember is Jeremiah and his assistant Ecco fleeing the scene with Bruce Wayne in tow, and a massive truck full of toxic explosives about to detonate.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Barbara Kean snapped. “We all know how the rest of this goes. Jim jumps in to be a hero, drives the truck off of a dock, and now the waters around Gotham are toxic sludge.” She slumps a little lower in her seat. “As if we didn’t have enough to worry about.”
Never had Jim missed coffee or alcohol more than he did at this moment. “We’ve managed to get the toxic water situation under control, more or less.”
“More or less?” Selina arched her eyebrow.
“Lucius has been scavenging as much tech from Wayne industries as is available to him to construct a water filtration system, and we’re putting a strict rationing system in place until we can get something more solid up and running.”
There came a rapping noise as Oswald impatiently tapped his cane upon the floor. “And any updates from the mainland?”
Jim gave the other man a stern glare. “No updates, as I’ve informed you the last twelve times you’ve asked. We’re on our own for the time being.” He threw down the stack of visual aids on his desk. “I promise that the second it changes, you will be the first to know.”
The statement seemed only to agitate the Penguin more. Throwing up his hands, he asked “I came out here for that?”
“Yes you bloody well did,” Alfred snapped back. “All this bullshit is linked, and we need as many hands on deck as possible to get Gotham’s shit together enough to rejoin the mainland and find Master Bruce.”
“As much as I hate to side with Oswald,” Ed cut in, “We didn’t sign up to look for the kid. How do you know he didn’t just go willingly? Maybe he doesn’t want to be found.”
It was impossible to tell who jumped to arms first, Selina or Alfred, as both moved impossibly fast to attack the bespectacled lamp post of a man. Barbara wrapped her arms around Selina and yanked her back, earning a few claw marks in the arm for her troubles. Harvey, being stood closest to Alfred, lunged to grasp onto the arm he’d drawn back to strike. “Ouch,” Barbara hissed. “Remind me to use a damn blanket next time, fuck…”
“Listen!” Jim shouted. All heads turned.
“We are all Gotham has left. We are all Bruce has left. Alfred was right, these issues are linked together deeper than I think anyone realizes. Jeremiah owns one of the bigger Gotham factions, not including Scarecrow and Tetch’s shares.” He turned to stare at the makeshift map he’d created not long after everything fell apart. “Now, more than ever, it is important we work together. Ed, you and Lee still, in theory, split the Narrows between yourselves, and Oswald has the majority of independent gangs as well as the ammunition factory in his territory. Barbara, you’ve got access to food and supplies, which everyone will be needing now more than ever.
“There’s strength in numbers. We keep things afloat for as long as we can while tracking Jeremiah. Try and lessen crime rates around our respective parts of Gotham, work on cleaning our waters, make it so the mainland believes we’re able to be redeemed.”
Jim’s gaze lingered on the part of the map that made up Jeremiah’s territory. It was fairly large, and rumored to be more dangerous than even Scarecrow’s. They’ve managed to rescue a few refugees, all of them in terrible shape from their time there. Not too far from there was the territory claimed by Victor Zsaz.
“If we find Jeremiah, we’ll find Bruce, and vice versa. We get him back safely, get Jeremiah behind bars, and we can focus all our efforts back into restoring Gotham. In the meantime, we have to recruit.”
“Recruit?” Oswald scoffed. “No offense, Jim, but a bunch of rag tag ruffians aren’t going to give a flying fuck about a missing rich boy. They’d sooner kill him themselves. How exactly do I go about making them empathetic to the cause?”
Alfred glared daggers at the shorter man. “You do what you do best, don’t ya? Bribe them. Give ‘em what they want. Rumor ‘as it your cupboards have managed to stay nice and full throughout this whole ordeal. Might behoove you to share some of the spoils.”
“I would like the record to show,” Barbara butted in “that his cupboards are only full because of The Sirens, and that the only thanks we actually got was a shipment of faulty-fucking ammo.”
“It is not my fault if the quality of the ammo you received was subpar, that is the exact reason-”
“Oh don’t play coy, we all know you purposely gave us a shitty batch-”
“Well you know what, that steak wasn’t even all that good to begin with, so if we’re discussing 'quality control-'”
“Enough!” Selina screamed. “Enough already. It’s stupid and petty and it’s giving me a damn headache.” She made a show of rubbing at her forehead, where it felt like a thousand pounds of
pressure was threatening to break her skull, to accentuate her point. “Penguin, you and I both know you have the ability to pay your workers, so I’d start doing that and see how quickly it boosts quality control in your factory.”
She turned to her friend beside her. “And Barbara, you have the club to use to your advantage. You can use the food and booze, loosen some tongues and rope more people into the effort. You’ve said it yourself, people are easy to get information out of if you give them a good buzz.”
There was the tiniest swell of pride in Jim’s chest as he regarded the young woman. “She’s right,” he said. “Infighting isn’t going to get us anywhere. We all have our strengths, and where one of us lacks, the others can make up for it. Get the word out, get our numbers up, any way possible. I’m going to go talk to Victor Zsaz.”
Boy, did that catch everyone’s attention.
“Are you fucking insane?”
“You’re asking to get killed-”
“Jim, there’s no way-”
Suddenly Harvey was there, pushing Jim out of the office and into the less cramped hall. Lowering his voice, he expressed similar concerns for Jim’s mental state. “We need as much help as possible, Harv. Freeze and Firebug can’t be counted on, they’re too unstable and most likely to still harbor some loyalty to the Valeskas. They’d be a liability. And we know Scarecrow and Tetch are loyal to Jeremiah to a fault. Zsaz is more of a free agent, he’ll-”
“Jim,” Harvey interrupted. “That’s what I’m worried about. Zsaz does as he likes, the only loyalty he has is to the Falcone family, and last I checked the only remaining Falcone is comatose somewhere on the mainland and hates pretty much all of us.”
“All I can do is try.” Jim shot back. “Victor, in his own weird, fucked up way, likes me. Or at least he tolerated me in the past. Hopefully I can build a strong enough case and get him on our side, preferably before anyone else gets to him first.”
Their staring contest lasted for a solid five seconds before Bullock backed down. He was too old and too worn to pretend he stood even a shadow of a chance at winning an argument with Jim Gordon. “Just try to not get your ass handed to you, we’ve got our hands full enough in the infirmary as it is.
Jim smiled, looking just as ragged. “I’ll try, but no promises. How’s the Haven Project coming along?”
Harvey shrugged. “It’s coming. Lucius and I are going to head out there with Lee to set up the new clinic there as soon as the autopsy finishes up. We figure the Sisters would be more willing to make the move if something substantial was already set up for their long term care patients, and Lee has some equipment left from her practice back in the Narrows. The first wave of refugees should be settling in within the week.”
“Good. That’s good.” Turning, Jim risked a glance back into the office. Through the window, he saw a lot of angry gestures as more and more of their little group erupted into argument.
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?”
Harvey took a long pull from his flask of incredibly watered down whiskey. “You know it.”
*****
Credit where it was due, not many people could sneak up on Victor. He supposed it helped that he’d literally been caught with his pants down, using the restroom in the middle of the night, but he couldn’t pass much judgment. Lord knew he was never above aiming below the belt during past missions (sometimes even literally).
The unseen person who’d manhandled him from the vehicle to...wherever the hell they were, ripped the bag off of Victor’s head, leaving him momentarily blinded by a white light beating down above him. His hands were bound to the arms of his chair, minimizing any movement.
“Wow!” He laughed. “Feel like we should maybe set up a safe word or something if we’re gonna be this rough.”
The room (from what little he could see) was bleak and gray. There was only the table and two chairs, with a single window about eight feet up the wall, and too small to even fathom trying to climb through.
The person who’d brought him there remained behind him, but he could feel someone staring from beyond the light, still as a statue.
“Is all this because I keep dumping bodies on the road? Because to be honest, given the current state of everything, road safety is gonna be the last thing most people worry about. And y’know, some might say decomposing corpses are nature’s speed bumps-”
“Please stop talking.” A calm voice instructed him. Deciding he wasn't in love with how the odds were currently stacked, he obeyed and kept his mouth shut. “I hear you’re a decent shot.” the unknown man continued.
Victor could only scoff. “I’d say a bit better than decent, but yes. Who’s asking?”
A few silent moments ticked by. There was a shuffling, the sound of a chair quietly being pulled out, though he still couldn’t clearly make out any further identifying details to tip off who the voice belonged to.
“A potential future employer,” finally came his answer.
“Oh shoot, a job interview?” the hit man jokes. “If I’d known, I would have worn my nice boxers to bed.”
“There is someone who is of a great deal of importance to me that I would like to hire protection for.”
Victor hummed, feigning interest in his binds. “Interesting, interesting… However, I feel it’s important to point out I don’t really do the ‘bodyguard’ thing these days. I’m usually the reason people hire bodyguards in the first place, generally not the other way around.”
The unseen man chuckled. “Well, you see, that’s why I would like your services.” There was the sound of papers rustling. “You think like an assassin, you know what weak points to look for during a job.” A bundle was slid across that table, coming to a standstill in front of Victor.
He glanced at the offending object, and then back to the man.
“Oh,” he laughed. “Oh, of course! How rude of me. Ecco, darling, untie our guest.” There was movement behind him, and suddenly gloved hands were roughly yanking at his ties. Victor couldn’t help the groan of appreciation that escaped his lips when finally he was freed. “Man, that already feels way better,” he sighed.
“I’m glad,” the stranger said. “Inside you’ll find your first month’s wages, all in advance.”
And if that didn’t perk Zsaz right up. “No shit, really?” He thumbed through the bills, pleased to find at least fifty grand in the massive package. Money may not mean much in Gotham’s current state, but Victor was nothing if not an optimist. And why not have a little stashed away for a rainy day?
Just in case.
“You start right away, there’s a room for you in my home so as to keep you close to your assignment, meals are included.”
One part of Victor felt hesitant. All of this was weird, weirder than usual. He’s had a fair number of assignments in his day, including a few oddball cases, but this was on a whole other level. He could feel something off in the pit of his stomach.
Another part remembered the shithole he lived in and the dwindling rations waiting for him there.
“Done.” He grinned, tucking the cash bundle closer to his person (on account of being in his boxers and an old shirt and having no pockets).
“Good,” the man purred. Suddenly, he leaned forward, into the light, and as bone white skin led to slick dark hair and unnerving pale eyes, Victor finally realized why he felt so weird before.
“Welcome to the family, Mr. Zsaz,” Jeremiah Valeska grinned.