[CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/gjL0ofw.png[/img][/CENTER]

[b]Industrial Bank Of Gotham - IBG Tower
Rooftop Level, 27th Floor
3:26 AM[/b]

Like a gentle fluttering against the night's sky, seven figures descend from the clouds above Gotham City without making so much as a single sound. Each man is outfitted in a state-of-the-art military flight suit, heavily modified with the latest in special-ops stealth capabilities. Draped in black and gray camo lining an all-black uniform, complete with featureless balaclavas and smoke-lined goggles, the group quietly encircle their target below as a means of gaining precision. They've scoped the place out for weeks, monitoring the building's security protocols and its operative fluctuations day in, day out. The guard station is located on the thirteenth floor, requiring a keycode and a retina scan just to be able to gain entry to a massive terminal of live feeds covering the whole of the tower. By the time that they would make touchdown on the roof, at least three separate cameras would easily spot them and send out a priority one red alert, triggering an extensive lockdown and sending out at least five silent alarms to five different GCPD precincts. 

This paradoxically doesn't happen, as each paraglider elegantly makes a safe landing upon the vacant helipad that stands roughly a yard away from the rooftop entrance. The leader of the group, nicknamed "Piece" in their bid for anonymity, rises from uncoupling the wings of his flight suit and produces a handheld device with a green light blinking. A gift from their employer, designed specifically to trigger a dormant system virus that will automatically reprogram the rooftop cameras to display a loop of the last few minutes. The others quickly shed their parachute and wings in unison, revealing large duffel bags, each filled to the brim with equipment. 

Piece raises his right arm and makes a fist, indicating that the two to his left - "Marker" and "Dial" - should run ahead and begin their work on the security lock on the entrance. As they rush forward, Piece reaches into a large pouch affixed to the back of his suit and pulls out two pieces, a large barrel and a trigger, before snapping them together to form a modified HK416 assault rifle. The other four - following Piece's lead - reach into their own and produce a variety of similar rifles, from an M16 to an M26 shotgun. 

[color=6ecff6]"Alright. Let's give our boys some air. Sixty-second rotation across the roof, in a straight line and turn."[/color]

Piece signals two of them to the right. [color=6ecff6]"Alpha, you're the pointmen. Anyone is spying on us from any of the adjacent buildings, we'll know through the infrared readout. Priority is to keep things low profile, but if you have to take 'em out..."[/color]

"Won't be a tragedy?"

Beneath the mask, Piece's brow furrows.

[color=6ecff6]"Like I said. Priority is to be scarce. Keeper? You got that?"[/color]

One of them nods. 

[color=6ecff6]"Good man. Just make sure your partner doesn't wander off the reservation."[/color]

"You got it. C'mon, 'Tock'..."

As Tock mutters under his breath, the two nevertheless comply, keeping their guns trained on the immediate area beyond the roof. Bravo team waits for the go-ahead, which Piece gives by pointing in the opposite direction.

"What about you, ace?"

Piece loads a fresh clip into his rifle. [color=6ecff6]"I'm lookout. Any security, cop, or otherwise gives us any shit, my job is to blow them away with everything I got."[/color]

"Thought you said we had to be low profile..."

[color=6ecff6]"Anything can happen, 'Watch'. Especially in this town. Not gonna pull any triggers unless we gotta."[/color]

'Tick', Watch's partner, bumps into the nervous thug's shoulder.

"You heard him. Get your ass in gear."

As everyone moves to position, Piece turns around and keeps his eyes north as Marker and Dial begin to pierce the steel casing that surrounds the security module. They're using industrial strength drilling equipment, the same make and model tested against the bars at Fort Knox every year to indicate whether the materials need to be updated with stronger stuff. And needless to say, The Industrial Bank Of Gotham was hardly Fort Knox. Top-of-the-line in electronic security? Sure, thanks to a sizable grant from Wayne Industries. But they didn't need a tank to break in. Just some careful planning, a sequence of breaches, and a hell of alot of luck.

[color=6ecff6]"Status."[/color]

"Just about through..."

Piece takes a look at the analog timer beneath his wrist. When they had made the drop out of the awaiting plane that was still hovering over a thousand feet above them, the group had seven minutes to get in, procure the package, and get out before any suspicion could reasonably be raised. Thanks to these idiots asking too many questions, they were down to four. While this wouldn't ordinarily be a problem, they all knew exactly who they were working for. Failure to adhere to punctuality was punishable by death, as many who had come and gone from the outfit had learned the hard way.

After watching a barrage of sparks go flying at them for what seemed like a small eternity, Marker finally turns to Piece and gives him the okay. Piece nods, turning just as Dial begins to go to work at the wiring for the alarm systems with a laser-cutter. They had to be severed in a specific sequence in order to bypass the electronic locks without incident, otherwise they'd all might aswell be going in guns-blazing. But it didn't take a genius to figure out that the very last thing you ever did as a thief in Gotham was go in guns-blazing. That was more of a Two-Face gang's style, or a bunch of Joker clowns. Someone looking to throw a little mayhem in with their take and stir things up. 

This wasn't about that. All they wanted was the municipal codes for the operating branches within the city. Snatching those would essentially give them a one-way keycard access to every major vault in Gotham, not to mention a couple of the neighboring counties. The boss had worked out a plan that would make them all rich, if that creepy-ass timekeeper was feeling generous enough to pay the others their cut. Which, Piece thought, he would... if he knew what was good for his health.

[color=6ecff6]"The rest of you, report. Anything out of sorts?"[/color]

[i]"Nobody in any of the parking garages. Not a trace of anyone on the rooftops."[/i]

[i]"Same on this end. Looks like we're in the clear."[/i]

A smile creeps upon Piece's lips beneath the mask. 

[color=6ecff6]"Guess the usual suspects have lost their touch."[/color]

At that moment, Dial managed to cut through the last of the wires controlling the locking mechanism. With a simple flick of the maintenance switch, hidden just behind the module, the group watches as the massive tumblers sealing the door in begins to rotate, before sliding back completely. All of them collectively breathed a sigh of relief, as this was always going to be the hard part of the job. But it had been carried out with no muss or fuss, all-but-guaranteeing a swift extraction.

Which made the appearance of the figure that was hiding behind the door, eerily patient and clearly having waited from the beginning, all the more shocking. Each of the seven men raised their weapons, too terrified to move as the all-too-familiar silhouette steps out from behind a thick smoke generated by the destroyed electronics. The figure's stark white eyes peered out from the shadows, glowing in a sneer. Despite being a Gotham native for over half of his life, Piece could hardly believe what he was seeing -  that after all these years of hearing nothing but rumors and second-hand accounts, he'd finally been placed into the unfortunate position of standing face-to-face with [i]him[/i].

[color=6276a9][b]"Five robberies. All prestigious banks. Each committed in the last month on a rotating schedule..."[/b][/color]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/J9KOvCN.png[/IMG]

[color=6276a9][b]"You knew this was coming."[/b][/color]

Over the next few seconds, Piece watched with abject horror as the robbery that he'd help plan for months fell completely apart. The Batman lunged forward from out from the shadows and subdued Marker with a chokehold, simultaneously taking the back of Dial's head and slamming his face directly into the console that he had just breached. Tick and Tock, swarming in from opposite sides, opened fire with an immediate hail of bullets pinning the concrete infront of and around their attacker. 

The Dark Knight quickly utilized Marker's bulletproof vest to protect himself from the oncoming fire, shifting the horrified thug's body over his shoulder and charged, effectively using him as a living battering ram. Catapulting Marker directly into Tick and Tock, knocking all three men to the ground, Batman spun before the others could fire and lashed out with a single batarang throw. The spinning projectile swung out in a perfect circle, forcing the guns out of the hands of three different combatants, before landing back into the leather grip of its wielder. 

Piece was the only one that had yet to be attacked. And despite the weapon in his hands, he couldn't feel his finger reach for the trigger despite every instinct telling him to do it. The [i]possibility[/i] of The Batman interfering with the job had always been discussed, always a topic at the forefront of any sane criminal's mind when discussing a pulling a heist in Gotham. But the simple fact is, Piece had never fully put it together that it was possible for a job [i]he[/i] was on - he'd always been lucky enough to stay directly out of the vigilante's ever-looming path. But now? His knees were buckling as quickly as his heart was racing. He'd been reduced to a mess of anxiety as he could only watch his men crumple to the ground. 

The Batman, on the other hand, had quickly discerned the pattern of these heists and passed the information along to Commissioner Gordon before he'd even arrived. It didn't take a genius to realize that Temple Fugate, known more locally as The Clock King, had faked his rehabilitation at Arkham Asylum in an effort to get himself back onto the streets during Gotham's most prosperous fiscal season. Fugate's compulsive need to organize his crimes had been the signature mark of the previous five robberies: the first had been committed at Gotham National Savings & Loan at precisely 10:10 PM on a Sunday, while the second had hit the Herron & Ellias Trust at 11:11 PM on the following week's Monday. The pattern had held for the next three, and each was within blocks of eachother in the Financial District - like hands on a clock pointing outward. Going by the clockwise motion, IGB Tower was always certain to be the next target.

While it would be easy to assume that with the police on his trail, The Clock King would abandon this methodology, Batman knew better than to leave it to chance. Not only would Fugate feel the need to keep each robbery on track [i]to the letter[/i], but the idea of abandoning his plans in favor of something far less predictable would have been a logistical nightmare to an obsessive like him. Time was precious to Fugate, as if he considered the concept no different than a child that had to be nursed. And to stray from its linear pathway would be akin to self-annihilation. It was partly why Fugate had never been considered a very serious threat when compared to his contemporaries. Even The Riddler, after the first few years of failed schemes, had learned when to change the rules of the "game" to keep himself ahead...

[color=6ecff6]"Code Gray! I repeat, Code Gray! He-He was waiting in the entrance!"[/color]

Amidst the fight with the others, Batman's eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze toward a terrified Piece, who had his weapon trained directly on the vigilante. But he was stepping backward, still far too afraid to fire. Either this piece of scum was looking to avoid potentially hitting his men, or in the more likely scenario, he had just found himself way too in over his head. The Caped Crusader made a note of that as he ducked an oncoming kick, grabbed the thug's leg, and then thrust his knee into the attacker's groin. 

Stomping the last conscious thief's face directly into the concrete roof, Batman advanced on Piece with a quick sprint. It was enough to terrify the thug into a backward trip, but he managed to spring back up and maintain his composure, nervously looking toward the skies. After realizing that his cowl's micro-transceiver had picked up a northbound noise, The Dark Knight stopped in his tracks and watched as seven more thieves from the outfit - presumably instructed to wait, in the event that things had gone south - descended from the clouds and quickly landed between Batman and their defacto leader, guns trained. 

"You're gonna pay for this, Bat! We're already behind schedule!"

Batman remained motionless for a moment, sizing up the situation. 

"Still, we can always curry favor with the boss by telling him that we finally punched your cl---"

Seizing the opportunity, The Dark Knight slammed a palm-full of gas grenades on the ground infront of him, disappearing into the billowing cloud as it enveloped the startled gunmen, momentarily blinding their vision while irritating their lungs. As they shot wildly into the air, each trying in vain to calibrate their goggles to see through the smoke through infrared, all they caught were glimpses of Batman's silhouette as he worked through the crowd. A nerve-pinch here, a shattered femur there, some pained screams, and the sound of broken bones followed the group as they were powerlessly, one by one, brought to the ground.

Piece, still choking on the irritant vapor, looked up as the cloud dissipated. Batman was still in the midst of disarming the last standing member of his back-up, snatching the gun away from his grasp and lifting him off of the ground. 

[color=6276a9][b]"Your boss would know better..."[/b][/color]

With a hard swing, Batman tossed the thug into the air and leaped himself, landing a precise spin-kick into the thug's spine and sending him crashing into the heap of unconscious or otherwise immobile bodies. His cape draping around him, The Dark Knight could hardly hide his disgust as he turned away.

[color=6276a9][b]"Than to use a [i]clock pun[/i] with me."[/b][/color]

[i][b]BRAKABRAKABRAKABRAKABRAKA![/b][/i]

With no time to react properly, The Batman felt his body reel back as three high-caliber bullets struck him directly in the chest. They had hit the most heavily armored part of his body, lined with an experimental kevlar-lined shock-absorbent filament that had been injection molded into the suit, but no amount of armor could change the fact that he had still taken three bullets to the chest. Landing hard onto his back, Batman recovered his breath just in time to see Piece walking towards him, nervously keeping his gun trained.

[color=6ecff6]"N-Now don't... don't you do anything else. I'm gonna leave this place right now, a-and you're not gonna follow..."[/color]

The Dark Knight responded by swooping his right leg under Piece's body, sending him crashing to the ground. The machine gun went flying, before being caught mid-air by Batman's apparent steel grip. Piece moaned in pain and grabbed at the back of his stricken head as The Caped Crusader instantaneously dismantled the weapon, tossing the useless cascade of parts aside. Standing over the injured thug, Batman violently reached in and grabbed him by the front of his vest, causing him to visibly and immediately panic.

[color=6276a9][b]"Here's a counter offer."[/b][/color]

Stepping ever closer to the edge of the rooftop, Batman positioned Piece over the railing with a single arm, leaving him to dangle over three hundred feet above the streets below. Piece was understandably concerned, while little to no emotion remained in The Dark Knight's glare. Truth be told, he had done this thousands of times. It could be surprising to most how easily even the toughest individuals break once gravity entered the equation. 

[color=6276a9][b]"You're going to tell me everything you know about Tempus Fugate. His location, where he's been keeping the earnings off these heists. And you're going to do that before I lose my..."[/b][/color]

But suddenly, without warning, Batman felt his grip on the thug weaken. 

[color=6276a9]"...patience..."[/color]

The steeled gaze turned into one of confusion, as the strength in his body was beginning to gradually fade. The Dark Knight merely assumed that the criminal in his grasp was struggling too hard and making things difficult. He was about to accost him further in order to scare him into submission, but that was when Batman noticed something particularly odd: the man wasn't moving. Reaching in to rip off his balaclava, the vigilante revealed a young man - no older than twenty-two or twenty-three - who had long since passed out from fright. 

Realizing that he might have overdone it, Batman went to pull him back over the ledge and drag him over to the others - but he wasn't able to do it. His back locked up, the muscles in his triceps went numb, and he started to feel as though his own hands were shaking. Overcome with his inability to control the situation, Batman reached out with his other arm in a desperate attempt to pull the unconscious body back to the roof - only to realize that he was the one tipping over.

Hit with pure exhaustion, Batman became horrified to witness the last thing that he'd ever want to see: the thief slipping entirely out of his grasp. 

[i][b][color=6276a9]"Mother of God..."[/color][/b][/i]

Without thought, The Dark Knight threw himself off of the roof aswell and hurriedly reached into the back of his utility belt. He could see the falling thug's body a few meters below him, hurtling towards the pavement on a collision course that was destined to be fatal. Using that knowledge to push himself even more, Batman produced a newer iteration of his grapple gun - larger than the handheld version that he would regularly utilize in the field - and shot it directly at his target. 

The grapple shot out without a line, instead employing three separate hooks attached to a large sensor. With the sensor hitting the thief directly in the chest, the three hooks automatically sprang to life and shot off three separate grapple lines out to the surrounding buildings. Even if one didn't hold, the other two would be more than sufficient in preventing the man's fall - and with the safety monitor installed in the sensor, would gradually slow the man's descent to prevent injury.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief as he himself sailed past the now air-suspended criminal, The Dark Knight pressed a button on the buckle of his belt and produced one of the other grapple guns. Spinning and firing a line into the air, Batman pulled down in order to arch himself for an ascension - only to find that it hadn't worked and that his pull was too weak. Flung through the air without a taut line, the vigilante cursed under his breath as he felt one of his shoulders pop from the velocity. Managing to propel himself into a weak swing, The Caped Crusader spotted a nearby window washer's carriage, unmanned just below the tenth floor of the building.

Feeling himself picking up an unwanted amount of speed, Batman braced himself as he collided directly with the steel pole of the carriage, causing him an even greater amount of pain than the three bullets embedded into his armor. With a weak thrust of his leg, however, The Dark Knight slowly made his way onto the carriage's platform, finally able to let go of the grapple. 

Breathing hard, with his heart feeling as though it were pumping out of his chest, Batman rolled onto his back and laid there for several minutes, trying to recover from a near-death experience that should never have theoretically happened. Despite his analytical mind, he simply didn't understand it. What had he just experienced? Some sort of delayed reaction to the impact of the bullets? Perhaps a bullet caliber he hadn't encountered in the field? 

Not likely, he thought to himself, beginning to cough in between gasps. He knew the make and model of the gun that the punk had used to attack him. It had been the same type fired by many of his enemies, often hitting him at a point in his career where he'd utilize considerably [i]less[/i] protective equipment. This was something else. Something psiological that had made him too weak to carry out something that wasn't, in his mind, very complicated at all. 

There was one thought. A single possibility that terrified him. But he immediately dismissed it to even himself, on the suspicion that he'd already spent too long ignoring this particular problem. To admit it even subconsciously, now of all times, would be admitting that he'd let this get out of hand. That were he a man of a more common sense, he would have prepared for this eventuality long before now.

He was getting old.[hr]