[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/sg3M1Yo.png[/img][/center] [b]Camden & Young Industrial Electroplating 10:48 PM[/b] The skinny man flew over the battered desk with a high-pitched yell. He was taller than Selina by a few inches, but she was able to manhandle him with ease. He was rail thin with long, greasy black hair, hair that had been easy for her to grab on to. He’d been so engrossed in his computer that he never heard Selina come through the door. “Don’t hurt me.” He peered at Selina from the edge of the desk, his eyes fixated on the gun in her hand. “You should have thought about that before you started blackmailing people," she said. "Give me your wallet.” “What?” “Did I stutter?” Selina asked with a raised eyebrow. “I'm the world's prettiest mugger. Now hand over your wallet.” The man slid a flimsy leather billfold across the desk. Selina picked it up with her free hand and snuck a glance at the ID card inside. “Edward Nashton. Only twenty-three," she tossed the wallet back. It bounced off his head and he winced. "Nice catch. Anyway, you're too young and too dumb to know you’ve pissed off some very powerful people.” Nashton swept his hair away from his eyes and shrugged in his best attempt at nonchalance. The shock of Selina getting the drop on him had faded, or he had replaced that shock and fear with false bravado. A cruel smile formed on his lips. “A bunch of rich assholes are getting squeezed for money that they won’t even miss. Cry me a fucking river, babe.” Selina felt growing annoyance at this insolent child. She was the one with the gun, but yet he was talking to her like he was armed. She kept the gun trained on Nashton while she reached down for his computer. “I’m taking your laptop,” she said. “I know it's going to bother you to not be able to harass women via twitter, but you'll be okay. Where are your backups? A guy like you has to have some insurance.” Nashton let out a harsh laughter that sounded like a donkey braying. “You’re so adorable. You think that’s how this works. You’re a spunky girl, I’ll give you that.” Selina fired once into the air. Nashton ducked behind the desk. “Call me girl, babe, or sweetheart one more time,” she growled. “Please, give me an excuse to actually use this gun.” Nashton held up his hands and sighed. He ran a hand along his face. “It’s pointless, okay? I forwarded everything I found. There are files on my computer, but what's the point? You can destroy my computer and kill me if you’d like, but it’s not coming back.” Selina took in the information and tried playing the angles out in her mind. She ran through every con or scam she knew. Still she came up empty. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said. “What kind of blackmailer doesn’t keep the blackmail information.” “Riddle me this,” Nashton said with a smirk. “When is a blackmailer not a blackmailer?” It suddenly clicked. She looked away from looking back at him. “When he’s already getting paid.” “Someone paid a lot of money for that hack job,” Nashton said with a proud grin. “A simple extract, but they also paid a lot of money for the performance. It was a message to get your attention.” “Why mine?” asked Selina. “Not yours,” said Nashton. He pointed over her shoulder and his eyes widened. ”[i]His.[/i]” Selina closed her eyes and sighed. She didn’t have to turn around to know who was there. Of course it was him. Who else would it be? She heard him walk across the floor towards her and Nashton. “How did you find me?” she asked. “You can be as careful as you like, you’re still being watched.” She turned around and looked him over. It was, what, six months since the run in at the museum? It looked like he had upgraded his attire in the meanwhile. More armor, especially around the upper body area. She smiled at the memory. He had learned the hard way that cats have claws. “You look good," she said. "New cape?” “Probably. I go through them quick.” He turned his attention back to Nashton and scowled. “Who hired you?” he growled. “I don’t know,” he sputtered. That cockiness was gone when Batman talked to him. Selina felt annoyed again. A man with pointy ears scared the hell out of him, but a woman with a gun couldn’t move the needle once. Her phone chimed an alert and she pulled it out to look. “It was all done through email," said Nashton. "They hired me to hack the database, leave those clues, and make sure I was found out by the bat.” “You were paid, but the blackmail was a sham. What was the purpose of the hack?” “Uhh, I think I know why.” Selina held up her phone. “Looks like it’s hit the press… On the screen was a breaking news article that read. “GOTHAM FINANCIAL FIRM LAUNDERS MONEY FOR ELITE.” “...and just like that,” she sighed. “I’m out of a payday.” Batman looked at the news article for a long moment. Selina could see the wheels spinning as he tried to make sense of it all. “There’s one more thing,” said Nashton. “I was also hired to pass on a message to Batman. It’s in an envelope in the desk’s top drawer.” He carefully opened the desk drawer and pulled out the envelope. Selina saw jotted on the white envelope was a message in neat handwriting. “Dear Batman, this is what real change looks like. Here’s my card.” He opened it up and pulled out the card. [hider][img]https://i.imgur.com/ckpEMng.jpg?2[/img][/hider] --- [URL=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLQYk-j0YdA]Mood Music[/url] Rupert Thorne stared glassy eyed at his wall-mounted TV. The top story on the news was all about him and the others who used Heed, McElroy, & Standler. The vast fortune and enterprise Thorne spent decades hiding were now in plain sight. He wasn’t afraid of arrest or reprisals from the law, they were too big to arrest after all, but his status was tainted. No one would ever look at him the same way again. There were already whispers in the halls of his country club. No longer was he just a simple businessman. Now they called him thug and gangster. He still had his fortune, but that didn’t matter. His standing in the community was now eroded. And someone had to pay for that. --- Fred Stickley buried his hands into his head. It was all over. Five decades in business all done now. The news meant HM&S was going belly-up and he would be out of a job. Some of the most powerful and secretive people in the world had been exposed by the firm. And each and every one of them had an axe to grind with Stickley. And on top of it all, when he'd come in to work this morning he found that every painting had been stolen overnight. The art had always been his escape hatch when things inevitably went bad. He could always sell a few pieces on the quick and get enough cash to run. But his life raft had just been deflated by the burglar. Stickley rubbed his temples. Stickley had disconnected his office phone hours ago, but he could hear the continuous ringing on every phone outside the office. Stickley took out his bottle of scotch and drank straight from the bottle as the phones continued to ring. --- Bruce watched the newsfeed on his tablet with a detached curiosity. He sat at the worktable in the basement, the tablet off to the side while in front of him was the tattered remains of his drone. He thought the arrest of Blackwood and the Crusaders would be the top story from last night, but it was now on the second spot in the news. Whoever hired Nashton had forwarded the contents of the info dump to every major news outlet in America. Gotham News Network took the lead, but the story had enough legs to make it global. HM&S provided “investment services” for more than just shadowy men with obscure fortunes. Crime boss Thorne was among some of their most tame clientele. Russian Oligarchs, South American heads of state, and even the occasional warlord all trusted HM&S with hiding their money away from prying eyes and making it clean. And now all eyes were on them. They had been exposed by someone. Whoever forwarded the files to the news hadn't delivered a message explaining their motives.. Only Bruce was deemed worthy enough to warrant a message. He ran his hands over the Joker playing card. “This is what real change looks like,” was the message. The newsfeed showed a Senator hurrying down a corridor to avoid reporter’s questions. While Bruce retreated into his thoughts, the camera on his tablet blinked on. On the other side of the lens someone was watching.