[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/pezu7HO.jpg[/img][/center]
[center][i]Detective Brock Sinclair[/i] [b]FC:[/b] Sean Bean[/center]

[b]Something’s Fishy[/b]
Dixon Docks, Dixon’s Fishery
Southwest Corner of Gotham City, 0315


     There were cops surrounding the crime scene that they were trying to determine if it had been a terrorist attack or a gang war. After 9/11 and the Boston Marathon, anytime an explosive of some sort was used in an assault, terrorism was always the first label that popped up. Terrorism at a fishery though? It didn’t make sense, but with the amount of psychos that escaped Arkham every once in a while, a lot of the crimes didn’t have to make sense. Detective Brock Sinclair was on the scene. The police had received an anonymous phone call about an explosion at the docks, and from what he could gather, it hadn’t been terrorism.

     Twenty-three were dead, five were injured and taken to the hospital in police custody. The detective stood behind a group of CSI who were packing fish stuffed with cocaine into evidence bags. Was it a drug bust? Brock turned from the officers and walked over to the second hole on the far western side of the fishery. He walked with his hands tucked within the deep pockets of his tan coat. The man looked tired just as anyone would that time of night. When he stopped before the gaping hole, his grey eyes examined the size and the direction most of the rubble had been scattered.

     A curious police sergeant approached the blonde detective and asked, “Hey, Detective Sinclair…” He offered his hand to the man, “Sergeant Stokes.”

     The detective first glanced at the cop’s offered hand before he reached over to take it in a firm shake. Sergeant Stokes continued, “So what do you make of this so far? This couldn’t have been just some drug operation gone haywire.”

     Brock was slow to answer as his eyes continued to sweep the scene before him. He had to be careful with how he answered. “This was a possible gang war.”

     The sergeant raised his brows. “A gang war? Between who?”

     “I haven’t had a chance to question any of the survivors, but if I was to guess, I’d say The Penguin and possibly…” He crouched and rested his forearms upon his knees. “Looks like a grenade or possible RPG was used here…we don’t have any suspects from the other group who attacked this one, which means the attack was quick.”

     Standing, Brock ran his hands back through his blonde hair. “I just can’t say. With the types of loons we got running around Gotham, it could be any of them.”

     “Why do you think these men belong to The Penguin?”

     Brock turned away from the hole and answered quite simply, “Because it’s fishy.”

     The sergeant blinked before he roared with laughter. Brock walked away from the cop and headed over to the dock where the cargo ship had been anchored. He stood on the platform facing the open river. The Penguin drug bust was only going to make him look good. Ever since he started working with the Marconis, work had never been so easy. The Penguin was burned, the boss got his man alive it seemed since he wasn’t one of the apprehended goons, and he was not only going to get paid for doing his part but his reputation as a detective was only going to grow. The whole operation had went so smoothly that he had to admit that Dante was a clever guy.