[color=#ffffff][CENTER][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/51phpnk.png[/IMG][/CENTER][/color]

[b][color=#ffffff]Sionis Imports, The Bowery[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffffff]Christmas Day[/color][/b]
[b][color=#ffffff]12:05 AM[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]I am at war. [/color]

[color=#ffffff][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/ioC8DFw.png[/IMG][/color]

[color=#ffffff]There's no hyperbole to be had about it anymore. I used to think of it as a mere crusade, or some childhood vow I had long since committed my life to in full. But deep down, I always knew there was a possibility that I would have to adapt to the harsh environment made whenever the city's organized crime would inevitably spiral out of control. And now Gotham is engaged in one of the worst territorial disputes in the city's history. Those who once treated the shallow waters of an alliance made to impose authority over criminal activity now find themselves drowning in blood and bodies. There've been precisely two hundred and eleven casualties in the wake of this, and that falls directly onto the head of one man who started it all. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Three months ago, all eight million, one hundred and seven five thousand city residents were witness to a declaration in horror as a man named Oswald Cobblepot revealed himself to the world in a display of merciless cruelty. He promised that he would bring ruin to The Five Families, and in an unbelievable move, made it known that he held blackmail materials for every criminal syndicate and law enforcement agency stationed within Gotham. A week after 'The Penguin' announced his threat, he made good on his promise by revealing ten names of police officers that directly answered to Salvatore Maroni. Those men and women, though corrupt, had their lives irrevocably destroyed. While the police weren't going to charge members of their own, the media ousted them, and their families had to suffer for it. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]And that was only the first week. Ever since seizing power, Cobblepot has only proven himself to be smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for. Even I bought into the lowly, portly Siberian who loved nothing more than money, liquor, and the company of women and treated the weapons' trade as if it were a side hobby. That man turned out to be a paid actor placed in guided charge of The Red Triangle while the real Cobblepot stood right alongside Carmine 'The Roman' Falcone, collecting enough intelligence to make life hell for the mobster and each of his associates. Were it only Falcone and the other organizational heads that met the fate brought down upon them, I'd have slept easier.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]But their husbands, wives, and children are put at an equal risk by Penguin's seizure of power. Which isn't even to speak of the tensions that arose after the reveal of Cobblepot's duplicity cast enough doubt on Falcone's ability to run an empire to separate the factions. The Red Triangle now sits atop a throne of destruction while the other families fight amongst themselves. Carmine Falcone hasn't been seen publicly since this started. Mayor Thorne has attempted to declare martial law twice, only for his demands to be met with malice from either one of the opposing families or Cobblepot's own group of metahumans. They'll all be dealt with in time, and there'll be a penance for Penguin once I've restored as much order as possible. What remains of The Five Families has my full, undivided attention tonight. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]The first rule of war is always said to be this: know your enemy. It's an ancient strategic code that most who've served for their countries, their freedoms, and their beliefs of justice have clung to in the need to make sense of chaos. I used to believe that it was enough to think of my enemies in a more simplistic term - they were a superstitious, cowardly lot who would fold once I put the fear of the supernatural into them. But Batman as he existed wasn't enough to prevent this from happening to Gotham. So I went to someone I never once thought I would see again. Asked him to train me, despite the danger in setting him free. And he complied, resulting in perhaps the most physically and mentally daunting month of my entire life. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]But I emerged stronger. Better than what I ever thought I could be. Every criminal that's met the man whose senses and reflexes were adapted to react faster than thought have experienced a new level of fear when unfortunate enough to break the law within my reach. They don't even claim to have been taken down by a giant Bat anymore. They each claim the shadows themselves came alive and dragged them, kicking and screaming, into Hell itself as their bones were crushed in and their screams echoed through the night. After playing it smart by keeping tabs on the warring factions without making my presence overtly known, hitting their lower operations, tonight has led me to launch my first all-out assault on one of the factions. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Or in tonight's case, two of them. The Syndicate and Capo Italiana. Long-time rivals with suppressed tensions to spare. I've been watching their every move for weeks, detailing every major player's operations since The Five Families' collapse. With Maroni, Alfred has done an exceptional, abiet surprising amount of recon under his 'Matches Malone' alias. And with Falcone, it's even simpler. All I have to do is humor Selina Kyle as Bruce Wayne, and without knowing it, she feeds me all the information I need. It's a deception that's paid off in ways I could've never imagined, and severing my emotional reliance on her has made The Syndicate vulnerable.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]It's all brought me to one contradictory conclusion. The first rule of war is not to know your enemy. It's to [i]dismantle[/i] your enemy before they can even become known to you. Dispassionate, cold observance has brought me more sufficient intel on the gangs than anything born of rage or determination. I've learned to bury those thoughts, to render them a mere whisper in the back of my mind. All that matters is that I act with precision, to the point that I don't even have to think. My body and my mind are capable of working in unison to take down any number of enemies, fuelled by instinct and guided by my senses to identify and target weak points, pressure points, and general vulnerabilities. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]The snow of Christmas morning billows across the rooftop as I tread ahead in silence, observing the dockyards filled with Roman Sionis' employees. By a rough count, there are at least thirty-five men and women down there. All ex-cons given a new job by The Syndicate, no questions asked. All ready to be armed at a moment's notice. They inspect shipping manifests, unload crates, transfer product to trucks, and inspect the cargo of what was brought to their door last night: weapons' grade heroin. A new strain that I have yet to encounter, but an analysis of a sample that I picked up last night while "working" the docks in disguise matches the chemical component. There's something off about it, but the irregularity is miniscule enough to be considered the real deal. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]None of them have any idea that a caravan of Capo Italiana's foot soldiers are about to breach the docks and open fire. Maroni wanted no survivors to send a message, relying instead on the bodies themselves to relay what could never be described in words. It's his way of signaling his newfound alliance with Thomas Blake, the head of the Moxon family that Maroni just absorbed. But what's important is what [i]neither[/i] side of the imminent conflict knows - that I have Alfred present at every important meeting between Maroni and his people. I've known about this attack for days, and had instructed 'Matches' to volunteer to drive the truck carrying the proverbial Trojan horse. If his disguise is to remain effective, he cannot break character. He'll have to allow the men to attack, and appear to attack right along with them wielding a gun full of blanks. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Which means it's up to me to stop them.[/color]

[b][color=#ffffff]"Hey! What gives?"[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]My eyes shift towards the gated entrance to the shipyard, where a Sionis Imports branded truck just arrived. Unscheduled, but Alfred assured me that the credentials were forged with enough accuracy to at least get them through the gate. The foreman impedes as the security guards inspect the given authorization papers, shining a flashlight directly on 'Matches'. His expression barely registers as he looks back, in part to Alfred's decades of field work as an agent of SHIELD. He barely even looks recognizable to me, and I've known him my entire life.[/color]

[b][color=#ffffff]"Boss said that we weren't getting any more deliveries for the rest of the week. And I don't got your routing number on any list, so unless something comes down from the horn, you're gonna have to turn back."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]'Matches' flashes a small, friendly grin. [/color]

[b][color=#8882be]"Relax, chief. These are new orders. Boss was too tied up with yuletide commitments to give 'em, but he told me to tell you guys that Christmas came early. Santa Claus and his merry elves brought you some of the good stuff."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]The foreman is handed the authorization papers, complete with a forged signature. He looks back up, scans the truck for any sign of something off, then turns the light back onto the unnaturally patient driver.[/color]

[b][color=#ffffff]"Even if this [i]is[/i] on the level, I'm gonna have to have a couple of my guys search your cargo before you can get in. That part's non-negotiable, 'chief'." [/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]'Matches' gives a shrug, indicating that he expected this. My body tenses up as the foreman whistles for a few of his crew to step forward, each carrying semi-automatics as a precaution. Once they open the back of the truck, they'll be met with gunfire from a small army of Capo Italiana loyalists. And that's being optimistic of their chances, given they're going to take a few hits themselves. But I don't expect a single bullet to pass towards one faction or the other, as Alfred and I were sure to strategize a plan well in advance.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]A slight alteration to the plan presents itself through the elements, as one of the men turn back after attempting to unlock the chain. [/color]

[color=#6d9eeb]"We can't open her up, Dave. Lock's frozen solid."[/color]

[color=#ffffff]The foreman looks back at him, skeptical, but Alfred improvises a brilliant excuse. [/color]

[b][color=#8882be]"S'been a long drive. We came all the way from Blüdhaven and the temperature weren't ever gonna agree with us. I'm sure you guys got somethin' to pry the lock open on the docks."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]Malone clears his throat. [/color]

[b][color=#8882be]"Less, o'course, you want me to tell the Calendar Man that his superior won't be havin' a major shipment of cargo handled because you refused us at the gate. He'll want names, y'know, regardin' who allowed that to happen."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]The foreman's demeanor immediately changes. Eventually, he signals for his guys to stand back, turning to the guards. [/color]

[b][color=#ffffff]"Open the gate. Guess it can't hurt to take a look, can it?"[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]I'd almost smile if this weren't deathly serious. The gates are pulled open in time, and Alfred drives the truck onto the main lot. A few of Sionis' thugs race into the stockroom in order to find something to either break the ice or the chain. That's when I decide to make my preemptive move. Slipping into the shadows, I silently drop from the rooftops and land squarely infront of the stockroom doors. Three thugs entered. ACE is already feeding me a readout of the inside. Wide room full of empty crates and back-up supplies, should be useful. Grabbing the handle of the door, I slowly open it and tread as carefully as possible. The three have their backs turned to me as I vault behind one of the crates for cover. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]I have seconds, if I'm lucky, to stall them from opening the back of that truck. This is going to require stealth and patience, two diametrically opposed enemies of open combat. But I have to be sure that my presence isn't felt until I deem it appropriate. Thankfully, the material of the new suit doesn't allow for unwanted noise. Lightweight polymer soaked into a leather fabric, rendering it both mobile and sturdy. Virtually knife-proof on it's own. But what these men are carrying aren't knives. Hence the precaution. [/color]

[color=#cc4125]"Hey, you seen the pliers? Maybe we should just cut the chain."[/color]

[color=#6d9eeb]"Think Frank had 'em last. Want me to go check and make sure?"[/color]

[color=#cc4125]"Yeah, if you would. I was already freezin' my ass off as it is, but this damned room might aswell be a fridge."[/color]

[color=#ffffff]My lucky day. One of the men exits, leaving only two to actively deal with. I peer around the corner and wait for my moment, when both are distracted enough not to notice my emergence. Twenty seconds go by, my breath shortens, and they eventually start checking crates. It's now or never.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]Performing a silent roll ahead, I rise up and grab the first man with the brunt of my arm, steadying my grip with the other. The punk's eyes go wide and he panics, reaching out for his partner to turn around, but no sound escapes his lips. He attempts to bang on the crate itself, but I pull him backwards, allowing him to slip into unconsciousness. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]As his body falls limp, his weapon slides off of the strap attached to his shoulder. I reach out and grab it before it falls to the floor. Gently placing it on the ground, I scoop both arms beneath the arms of my unconscious victim and drag him back into the darkness, just as his partner turns around and notices that he's alone. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Thankfully, he thinks nothing of it, assuming that he just didn't notice the other leave. He goes about his business, leaving me to pick up the limp body of his partner once more and place it inside of a crate, just out of sight. The last man in the room starts checking on one of the higher shelves, giving me the best opening that I've had all night. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Running out from the darkness, I grab the unconscious thug's fallen semi-automatic and aim it just as the man turns around after hearing my rush. Tossing it hard into his throat, I leap and perform a drop kick into his chest as he gasps for air that won't escape his windpipe. He slams into the wall, slides down, and begins to cough. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]As I take a step forward, his eyes go wide with abject horror as the cold blankets my approach with a light fog. He's scared, which means that he thinks I'm going to kill him. No reason to let him believe otherwise. [/color]

[b][color=#666666]"The rest of your associates are about to be hit hard by a rival faction. So if you value the lives of your co-workers, I'd suggest you do yourself a favor..."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/uJzwGUI.png/[/IMG][/color]

[b][color=#666666]"And stay down."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]He grasps at his aching throat and considers my offer. Then begins to move, spitting up blood. I catch him as he attempts to rush past me and lock his arm behind him, kicking his legs out from under him and applying my boot to his shoulder. Noticed that he walks with a slight upright limp earlier. Indicates a recent injury. I stomp down on the shoulder, snapping the bone, causing him to scream out in silence. [/color]

[b][color=#666666]"Should have listened."[/color][/b]

[color=#ffffff]Slamming my fist into the base of his skull, he goes down instantaneously.[/color]

[color=#ffffff]First rule of war. Dismantle your enemy before they can even become known to you. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Second rule of war? Thin the herd. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]In minutes, Sionis' men are about to be caught up in the crossfire of Capo Italiana. They're completely unaware, but have enough men available to fight back. Things will be bloody, they will get deadly fast, and bullets will be flying in every possible direction. I have one chance to save everyone here, and [i]only[/i] one chance before the violence even begins. [/color]

[color=#ffffff]Good thing I brought a secret weapon along to help me. [/color]

[b][color=#666666]"Batmobile. Prepare to engage."[/color][/b]