[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oP0vgV2.png?1[/img][/center]
[hr][right][color=white][b]Gotham City Harbor[/b][/color]
[color=gray]10:52 PM[/color][/right][hr]
[indent]Angelo Brancati stood at the back of his office overlooking the Gotham Harbor, his hands shaking and back against the wall.

[b]“This fucking city has turned into a god-damned circus.”[/b] He uttered underneath his breath.

For the last half-hour he had been under attack – his men picked off one-by-one by forces unknown. The phone lines were cut and he had dropped his cellphone in the panic of getting to safety as fast he could while gunfire filled the air. Maroni would've told him to keep his nerve and to assert his focus over the operation, but he wasn't dealing with people he could predict anymore. Not with his experience. Gotham City was [i]changing[/i] and it was changing in a way that the mobsters and grifters and crooks and politicians couldn't predict. When he signed up with the families nearly forty years ago he had done so as a street soldier, not a god-damned ninja.

He aimed his gun at the only entrance to the office as the screams of his men could be heard as plain as day outside. 

[b]“Fuck. Fuck. I didn't sign up for this shit.”[/b]

As the seconds turned into minutes, the sound of gunfire became less-and-less frequent until it inevitably stopped. He had remembered the story of Maroni's first encounter with The Bat – how he got thrown out of a window and had a much “needed” conversation. But how did he know that was what would happen to him? He wasn't as high up on the criminal ladder and the methods of the so-called Caped Crusader weren't exactly consistent. He didn't want to find out. However, before he could contemplate a plan outside of "be a chicken shit in a corner", he could hear the muffled footsteps of someone approaching. 

On impulse, he pulled down the trigger.  

For a few minutes afterward, there was silence.

[b]“Go the fuck home!”[/b] He screamed, [b]“I won't go down easy!”[/b]

More silence.

Taking his chances, he swallowed his nerves and approached the door, looking out the eyehole as he did so. Before he could react, the glass of the windows behind him shattered and the sound of metal hit the wooden floorboards. He knew it well – the sound of a grenade. 

In a flash he covered his eyes.

When he reopened them he saw something else. It wasn't The Bat at all.

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/SwuzDQD.png[/img][/center]

Brancati's finger hit the trigger. Click. Click. Click. 

Realizing he had wasted his last clip on a fucking door when he knew Gotham vigilantes preferred windows and rafters, he cursed under his breath and turned immediately to the door and tried to unlock the door as quickly as he could. Why didn't he wait until he had a clean shot? Why had he been so scared? He gritted his teeth as he looked back at the woman in purple, his eyes moving around the office to see if he could find a weapon in arm's reach. After all, it was [i]just[/i] one [i]girl[/i]. For a minute he felt his nerves edging out and his adrenaline rising. That is until he heard her speak.

[b][color=8C73B5]“Angelo Brancati. I sentence you to death.”[/color][/b]
[/indent]