[center][img]http://s27.postimg.org/5uuwygu27/latest_cb_20130813021947.png[/img][/center]
[b]Parkthorne Avenue, Blüdhaven[/b]

It had taken him all night and he’d lost count of the number of fingers he’d had to break but Dick had [i]finally[/i] located Two-Face’s base of operations. He was working out of Giuseppe’s meatpacking plant by Skunk Avenue. It had closed down almost seven years ago and had lain dormant ever since. Dent seemed to have amassed a small army of illegal immigrants to help him prepare Schizo within the plant. Every second that passed meant more of Dent’s filth on the streets. Dick had to act and he had to act fast. God knows how many more would die otherwise.

Dick stood in his apartment in front of the computer screen and made sure to memorize the schematic of the meatpacking plant. He couldn’t afford any nasty surprises. There was every chance the immigrants working for Dent were doing it against their wishes and Dick wanted to make sure there wasn’t any collateral damage. Once he was satisfied he hit a button and the computer dialed Hendrix on the number of the burner Grayson had given him that morning. After a few rings the old busker picked up.

“Run me through what I gotta do again, my man.”

Dick sighed.

[color=skyblue]“Exactly forty-five minutes from now you’re to call Blüdhaven Police Department and ask to be put through to a Detective Gannon Malloy in the Homicide Division. You tell him the man responsible for the two murders at Waterloo Docks is waiting for him at the old meat packing plant by Skunk Avenue. Tell him to bring backup and not to be late.”[/color]

BPD needed to apprehend Dent at the scene to link him to the drugs. There was no other way if they were going to nail him for those two vagrants over on Waterloo Docks. He might not have killed them with his own hands but the drug he had supplied them with had caused their deaths and that was as good as the same thing to Dick. Hopefully a court of law would see it the same way. At the very least Dick was sure Dent probably had twenty open warrants on him. Apprehending him would mean he’d be off the streets and in a padded cell somewhere. [i]Everyone[/i] would be safer for that.

After a few seconds Hendrix’s voice came through. It was laced with doubt. “It sounds like you’re fixing to do something drastic, Officer Grayson, I hope you’re not planning on making me an accessory to something grievous.”

Dick laughed a little at that. 

[color=skyblue]“Relax, Hendrix, I think Blüdhaven’s got enough dirty cops for one lifetime. This is all on the up and up. You have my word on that.”[/color]

Dick tapped a button on the keyboard that ended the call and shut the computer down with a swipe. He’d spent the best part of a year fighting Blockbuster and his men to no avail. The last thing he needed was Dent on his hands. If Schizo was allowed to keep growing Harvey would have a monopoly on Blüdhaven’s drug trade. It would lead to all out war on the city’s streets. Dick had to cut Dent down to size before that happened. He had to show him and anyone else with designs on Blüdhaven that the city was a no-go zone. Only then would he be able to take Blockbuster down for good.

[center]*****[/center]
[b]Skunk Avenue, Blüdhaven[/b]

Harvey Dent stood on a raised platform that overlooked his operation. He had at least forty people working round the clock producing Schizo and word had it that he’d have another twenty more within the night. They’d be able to increase production soon. Increased production meant increased profits, increased profits meant increased power, and increased power meant Blüdhaven would be his before long. There was just one problem. The latest shipment of nerve agent Dent used to make Schizo had been hijacked by Blockbuster’s men earlier that afternoon. If that freak had his wits about him, which Harvey had been lead to believe he did, he’d figure out for himself how to make the drug and cut into Harvey’s profits.

Knelt before Dent was the lone survivor of the team tasked with bringing the shipment off of the docks to the meatpacking plant. He was a fat man, in his forties, and he’d been with Dent’s crew for a few years. Harvey couldn’t remember his name. He could [i]never[/i] remember their names. The man sobbed silently in the arms of two of Dent’s enforcers. Harvey flicked his silver coin up and down in his right hand as he prowled in front of the man.

[color=LightSlateGray]“How much is he paying you?”[/color]

The fat man stared up at Dent with a bemused look. “P… P-paying me?”

[color=LightSlateGray]“Blockbuster,”[/color] Harvey smiled. [color=LightSlateGray]“Three of my men are dead and here you stand without a scratch on you. Am I to believe you’re so much of a specimen that you not only evaded capture but did so without so much as grazing a knee? Is that what you’re telling me here?”[/color]

“I work for you, boss, I’m… loyal to you, not that Blockbuster freak.”

Dent chuckled as he continued to pace around like a restless animal. [color=LightSlateGray]“You can understand why I’m a little suspicious, I hope?”[/color]

“I… I can’t explain it… I guess I was lucky.”

[color=LightSlateGray]“Luck, eh? That’s what you put it down to? I wonder if the next shipment is intercepted whether that’ll be down to another stroke of bad luck too?”[/color]

“I… I…  don’t know, boss.”

[color=LightSlateGray]“It was a rhetorical question,”[/color] Harvey sneered. [color=LightSlateGray]“Look, this little expansion of mine is important to me, there’s a lot of money to be made in it for everyone, and I can’t put all of that at risk by choosing to take you at your word. I need to know for certain where your loyalties lie.”[/color]

Dent bent down towards the man and brandished his silver coin in front of the man’s face. One side was blackened with deep knife marks riven into it and the other was unmarked. The man stared into the ground, preferring not to make eye contact with Dent, something Harvey noticed people did more and more since his accident. The exposed flesh on the left side of his face seemed to put people ill at ease. Not that he could blame them. He turned the coin to show both sides to the man and flipped it to show him it wasn’t weighted.

[color=LightSlateGray]“Heads you live and tails you die,”[/color] Dent said with a sadistic smile. [color=LightSlateGray]“Does that sound fair to you?”[/color]

“W… w-what? P-please, boss, I sw…”

Dent flicked his thumb and the coin flew upwards. It had made it up to Harvey’s face when an object cut across it and sent the coin flying out of sight.

[color=LightSlateGray]“What the…?”[/color]

Dent looked up to the plant’s roofing and there amongst the rafters stood Nightwing with a mocking smile on his face.

[color=skyblue]“You know, Harvey, you really need to think about brushing up on your interpersonal skills. If you keep going around shooting your men in the head you’re going to have a real hard time attracting work.”[/color]

Harvey's twisted, burnt face contorted with rage as he took aim at Nightwing and opened fire. With each pull of the trigger his roars grew louder and spittle ran down his chin. Nightwing pirouetted down from the rafters without breaking a sweat, undeterred by the bullets flying past his head, and as he landed in front of Dent reached for one of his Escrima sticks with a smile. Nightwing stood eerily still as Harvey fired the last of his bullets towards him. With a swipe of his stick the costumed vigilante deflected the bullet away from him and then smirked in Dent's direction.

[color=skyblue]"My turn."[/color]