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[CENTER][color=darkgray][b][sub]C H A P T E R   O N E :   C O M E  T A S T E  T H E  V E N O M[/sub][/b][/color][b][color=BLACK][sup][h1]MURPHY’S LAW[/h1][/sup][/color][/b][/center]
[color=black][b]G o t h a m  C i t y[/b][hr][hr]	[sub]November 7th, 2017 – 04:35am | [i] The Cauldron [/i][/sub][/color]

	Tying a rope around an unconscious man’s ankles, looping the other end of that rope over a suspension beam, and using it to haul that man bodily into the air wasn’t as easy as it used to be. True, Stryker had put on weight in the last few years, but not so much that the job could have become this difficult. It felt like someone had lit fires deep in the tissues of his shoulder muscles, while his joints ached so bad that he was almost surprised that he hadn't began vibrating. And that was all without mentioning his knee. The damn thing just would not stop shaking, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. All of Bruce Wayne's expensive doctors had told him that there was almost no cartilage left in the joint anymore, and expressed wonder that he was walking without the aid of a cane. It was starting to look like that wouldn't be the case for much longer.

	Annoyingly, not one of the thugs had been able to do so much as touch him. It had been a perfect operation. And yet, here he was with all these aches and pains. He cursed his stupidity, telling himself that he should have used the grapple’s motorised winch instead of lifting Stryker himself. [i][color=black]But no, you just had to prove something to yourself. Was it worth it? Do you feel young again?[/color][/i] Still, whats done is done. Stryker was beginning to come to. The break was over. Batman could show no weakness.

	It was with fits and starts that the old man finally found consciousness, jerking himself back towards wakefulness. All that wrenching set his rope to spinning, round and round, leaving Stryker rotating helplessly. It gave him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of his predicament. First, he took in the concrete floor and unfinished walls that seemed to surround him on three sides. Then, as the rope spun, he was treated to a view of the Gotham skyline, and with that information he realised just how high up he must have been, strung up inside one of the construction sites unfinished buildings. He spun on, finishing the rotation to come face to face with his tormenter.

	“Awww, [b]shit![/b] You!” Stryker spat. He didn’t look terrified so much as he looked annoyed.

	[color=black]“Yes. Me.”[/color] The voice was one of the few things that came easier now than it did twenty years ago. Age lent his vocal cords a bone saw-like rasp that youth struggled to emulate.

	“I ain’t gonna talk. Know that?” Batman didn’t answer, instead letting the silence seep, no noise in that early morning air other than the slow creak of the rope as Stryker inexorably wound round and round and round. The criminal struggled, vainly, to keep Batman in his eyeline. Why he would worry about letting his enemy get behind him now, when he was already at said enemies mercy, was beyond the Dark Knight. They'd been in this situation countless times before, and it was just beyond Alfred to free himself. “You can do what you want freak. We’ve both been here before, and I know you won’t kill me. So why should I talk? Broken bones heal. Get me?” 

	[color=black]“I might not kill you Alfred, but I don’t have to save you.”[/color] It was hard to tell whether that look on Stryker’s face was confusion or if all the blood rushing to his head was giving him a headache, but regardless it was obvious that the comment set him to thinking.

	“What the hell you talking about? Save me from what?” Batman had to stop himself from grinning. Sometimes, just [i]sometimes[/i] the job was too easy. [i][color=black]Criminals are a stupid and cowardly lot.[/color][/i]

	[COLOR=BLACK]“The Rileys. They got away.”[/color] A lie. Moose and Ryan were both trussed up tightly and awaiting pick up by the GCPD. Stryker didn’t need to know that though. [color=black]“How long, do you think, before they put two and two together and come up with five? How long until the Riley’s start pointing fingers for, looking for someone to blame for [i]me[/i] showing up here tonight.”[/color]

	It was surprising how quickly all the blood drained from Stryker’s face, considering he’d been hanging upside down for the best part of ten minutes now.

	“No … you’re lying. They wouldn’t pin me. They know I ain’t a rat!”  Stryker’s back was to Batman now, and this time he did allow himself a smile. A brief, triumphant smile. [i][color=black]Gotcha.[/color][/i]

	[color=black]“Do they? Two decades, Alfred. That’s how long I’ve been dogging your heels, ruining every deal you set up, taking down every unlucky fool stupid enough to partner up with you. That's a long time Alfred. Too long to be explained away as simple bad luck. Looked at in a certain light, it starts to get extremely suspicious.”[/color]

	“I can - ”

	[color=black]“I'm sure they're all wondering how long we've been working together. How much I've been paying you to flip on the rest of Gotham's underbelly. I imagine they’re already setting the price for your head. How much is it worth, do you think? Ten thousand dollars? Fifteen? Certainly, no more than twenty, not for a has-been like you. Face it, this was your last chance, and you blew it.”[/color]

	“You wouldn’t let - ”

	[color=black]“I could save you. I have contacts in the GCPD. We could see about getting you into wit-sec, setting you up somewhere far away from Gotham. A quiet place that you could see out your twilight years in comfort and safety. [b]But[/b] only if you give me something to work with.”

	"Tell me about the Venom, Stryker."[/color]

	Years of beating the fight out of men had taught Batman how to recognise the moment they lost it. When they’d taken all the punishment that they could possibly suffer, and just gave in. Alfred Stryker had just lost his fight. No more could he dream of a throne as Gotham’s criminal royalty. Those days were long past, and in the past, they must remain. It was strange, but the Dark Knight felt a pang of something quite close to sadness in his chest, like he was witnessing the end of something unique, and that once it was gone the world would never see it’s like again. Stryker was the last of an old breed of criminal, one that madmen like the Joker and Riddler, with their colourful costumes and larger than life personalities, had done away with. [i][color=black]You’re getting melancholy in your old age.[/color][/i]

	“Ok Batman. You win. I’ll talk.” Styker’s voice was taut with resignation. “Cut me down and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

	[color=black][sub]November 7th, 2017 – 06:10am | [i] Old Gotham, GCPD Headquarters [/i][/sub][/color][hr][hr]

	A light, yet steady rain had begun to filter down upon the city. Dawn was visible on the horizon, but still some way off. The roof of GCPD headquarters was almost as familiar to him now as home, though he’d still rather be elsewhere. He had work to do back at the Cave, after all. Still, this was necessary, even if it was a job he’d rather not have to do.

	“ … we’d get a detail on Stryker, and get him into wit-sec as soon as possible. Almost seems like wasted effort, considering how little we got outta him, but c’est la vie.” Detective Harvey Bullock was almost unrecognisable from the once dirty cop that Batman had first crossed paths with. A serious health scare a couple of years back had forced the detective to rethink his less healthy habits, and as a result he’d lost almost three stone in weight. He was still a shabby dresser, though that was now because none of his clothes fit him, rather than because of his slovenly behavior.  

	Batman had contacted Bullock with everything that Stryker gave him, with the GCPD being quick to get on the scene and collar the thugs. After he’d been taken back to the station Alfred was made to repeat everything he had already told the Dark Knight. Which, as Harvey so succinctly put, wasn’t much. “So, he really doesn’t know who was giving him that venom?”

	The Dark Knight turned away from his study of the distant skyline, and fixed his attention on Bullock. [color=black]“He had no reason to lie.”[/color] Stryker was done. That much was obvious. Even he, the career criminal who had spent the last twenty years fooling himself into thinking that his best years weren’t behind him, could see that the writing was on the wall now. He hadn’t held anything back. He didn't have the resilience to fight anymore. He just wanted to close that chapter of his life.

	“But, it’s ridiculous. All these drop boxes and secret notes. That’s S.H.I.E.L.D garbage. It ain’t the kind of thing our scumbags deal in.” It was difficult not to agree with Bullock’s sentiments. Stryker had painted a bizarre picture. Apparently, he’d received an anonymous note a week ago, telling him to be on the lookout for a package at the Dixon docks. Sure, enough the package had arrived, bearing Stryker’s name, and inside the vials of Venom. Along with it were more instructions, stating that Alfred was to sell the product for no more than five hundred dollars apiece, and that if he did well more vials would make their way to him. Stryker had nothing else to give them. 

	It was a vexing mystery. Who could possibly benefit from the transaction, other than Stryker himself. The unknown benefactor hadn’t asked for anything in return, and their only stipulation was that the Venom was sold cheaply. It almost seemed like the only goal here was to cause chaos, because if that steroid had made it's way into the hands of the Riley's, there would have been chaos. 

	“I checked with Blackgate, by the way. Bane’s still enjoying a vacation at the expense of the state, so it can’t be him. Unless he’s doing it from behind bars. . . which probably isn’t beyond him.” Batman didn’t respond, but he doubted this was the work of Bane. It didn’t match his MO. The man did not willingly share power. Whenever he had sold his venom in the past, he had always made sure that the cost was high, and the deal favored him. No, this was someone else. Someone playing a longer, more intricate game.

	“Well, we’ll monitor the situation. If it gets any worse, we’ll be ready for it.”

	[color=black]“It is going to get worse. This is just the beginning, Bullock. We’ve removed Stryker, but whoever’s behind this will just find someone else to deal their drugs. They’ve probably already got alternative dealers working all over the city.”[/color]

	“Yeah, I figured. This is Gotham, after all. If something can go wrong, it will. Sooner, rather than later usually.” They fell silent then, the detective digging in his inner jacket pocket, while the Batman watched him fumble. Finally, Bullock pulled a plastic bag of carrot sticks clear, taking a moment to pop one into his mouth. Apparently he still craved his cigars, years after giving them up. The carrots were a poor substitute, but they eased the mouth boredom. It was still another minute before Bullock spoke up. Another minute silently hoping that the subject would go away on it’s own.

	“So, uhhh, before you do your Houdini act, you should know that I retire at the end of next month.”

	[color=black]“I know.”[/color] He’d read Bullock’s retirement request almost as soon as he’d submitted it to his Commissioner. He’d been inside the GCPD’s computer systems for so long that he probably knew more about their inner workings than their IT staff did.

	“Of course, you knew, silly me, thinking I had news for the omniscient Batman.” The detective ground his carrot in annoyance. He seemed genuinely annoyed that he hadn’t been able to surprise the Dark Knight, even with this. He should have known better. Still, with that awkwardness out of the way, Batman could get back to the cave, and finish the nights work.

	[color=black]“I’ll need a list of suitable replacements before you leave.”[/color] 

	“Uh-huh. Been a pleasure working with you too.”