Bruce could tell just from looking at the correctional officers exiting Blackgate, which were the ones working in gen-pop, and which worked on death-row. Men who had been in confrontations all day came out with their shoulders up, confident from the power they wield in the prison. But the men he was searching for walked with a slouch, their eyes kept to the ground, their arms hung low. This was the toll of death on the living.
Of course he had already read all their files and seen their pictures but from this much of a distance, he had mostly his instinct to go on. Only one of the death-row guards worked here when Lawton was supposed to have been executed. Bruce watched the one with the slowest gait as he bypassed his car, B-lining straight for the pub across the street. Bruce fixed his hat and walked with limp, making his way to the bar.
#
"He's afraid," Bruce spoke into the payphone on the street. "He didn't tell me much, but he thinks he's being watched," he told Clark. A knocking sounded on the glass beside him caught his attention, he looked up. Lawton stood with a pistol trained at Bruce's head.
"And he'd be right," Lawton said. "Hang up." Bruce did as he was told, and knowing Clark's inability to work the batcomputer, with which he could easily trace the call, Bruce figured he was on his own until Kara worked it out.
"Now you gotta tell me the story 'cause I'm just too damn curious... why's some old man I've never met asking questions about me?" Lawton asked.
Men in dark suits had already surrounded him. There was a time where this kind of thing would never have happened to him. Maybe Lawton wasn't referring to the mask when he called him an old man.
"You're not the only I'm looking for," Bruce said, leaning harder on his cane. He made himself look as frail as possible. The men around him drew closer. Against an elderly man with a limp, they grew confident, dominant. He could see two, a third he could hear, including Lawton, that made four. He could deal with four.
"Oh, well then, I guess don't care," Lawton said, raising his gun.
"You would kill an unarmed old man?" Bruce asked.
"I'm supposed to be dead. My kid's depending on me to keep the world believing it. Sorry, between her and you, I choose her."
Bruce launched the cane straight ahead-- it bounced off Lawton's nose with a loud crack, sending him stumbling back. He snatched the gun from Lawton's hand. Before the other men could reach for their weapons, Bruce fired three shots, each man taking a bullet to the shoulder.
A kick from behind rocked his ribs and sent him falling to the ground, he rolled and spun around, aiming the gun back at Lawton who now had a second pistol aimed at Bruce.
"I told you, I'm not here for you," Bruce said.
"What then?"
"You worked for something called Task Force X..."
"We had a different name for it," Lawton said.
Bruce could hear the men behind him moaning in pain and anger. They would be reaching for their weapons in seconds. Bruce knew Lawton wouldn't let him escape and he knew he couldn't stay where he was. Changing locations was his only option for success. Bruce jerked the gun right and fired two shots into a parked car's gas tank.
Lawton recoiled against the sudden fireball. Bruce ran into the alley ahead. He knew there was a fire-escape that would lead him to the roof where he would have the advantage. He Looked up. The fire-escape was gone, collapsed and never rebuilt. A gun cocked behind him. Bruce turned. Lawton fired.
Bruce's eyes closed in fear and reflex. For a moment there was only silence. He peeked. Superman stood between him and Lawton. The man of steel darted to Lawton and put a firm hand on his shoulder, pushing him down to his knees. Superman took the gun from his hand and smashed it against the wall.
Lawton's teeth ripped against one another. He raised his palms up in submission.
"I knocked out his friends," Kara said as she walked into view. She stayed back, watching it all from afar, Bruce could tell she wasn't in the mood for violence.
"All right," Superman began. "...ask what you need to ask,"
"Thanks," Bruce said as he approached his friend, then turned his attention to Lawton. "We're looking for someone who was on your team. They had... strange abilities. They could make people see things that weren't there... make people do things. I need to know who it was. Lawton's eyes widen with the memory of it.
"She's the one you're after? Why didn't you say so, she freaks me out, I have no love for witches."
"Witch?" Superman asked, surprised.
"What would you call someone who can do that shit? I don't know her, she was never with the team, she was always off somewhere, making things happen from afar. I only know what the others called her... Enchantress."
"He's telling the truth," Superman said.
"Who was in charge?"
"I'll tell you if you let me go. I have a kid. And those guys back there aren't exactly my bodyguards. They watch me. I don't kill unless I think my kid's gonna pay for it if I don't." Superman nodded.
"No more killing," Bruce said. "He can tell if you lie..." he gestured to Superman who smiled.
Lawton nodded. "No more killing."
#
"Amanda Waller," Clark said as Kara pulled a file up on screen. "Not much on her, military for a few years then, not much after that. Guess that sounds about right for someone who would redact their own reports."
"What would the Joker have to do with someone from the Government?" Kara asked.
"Probably nothing," Bruce said, pulling the chair she was sitting on. She stood, he took her place. "But if Waller uses people like Lawton, who was on Death-row for murder, then she probably uses people who run in the same circles as the Joker, they may have a mutual conn--"
A sharp whine of audio feedback pierced from the monitor speakers.
"What is it?" Clark asked. Bruce checked the computer, looking to see where the transmission came from.
"Nightwing's comms. He's been tracking the RPG Harley used." He bent down to the console. "Nightwing, did you find anything?"
A burst of laughter shattered from the speakers, one all too familiar to Bruce. "Oh yeah," the Joker's voice cut in. "He found something..."
A message blinked on the monitor. "Open Me," it read.
"Wait," Clark said, "...it could be a virus."
Bruce double clicked on it. A video popped up, the word "Live," blinking on the top right-hand corner. It showed Nightwing tied to a chair and gagged. He had already been beaten. Blood ran from the gashes on his face, staining his black and blue suit. Both of his eyes were swollen.
"What do you want?" Bruce asked through gritted teeth.
"Only what I've always wanted..." Joker's voice echoed. "To see you smile..."
Bruce started running a program to track the message. A distorted guitar riff pumped into the room. Harley Quinn entered the scene from the right, a baseball bat in hand. "He's already black and blue..." she said with a pout. Then shrugged and swung the bat hard at his chest.
"My God..." Kara said, her hand to her mouth.
"Joker!" Bruce screamed. Joker stepped into frame, looking directly at camera. His eyes were bloodshot, his lips smeared red with makeup, his face white and peeling.
"It's the connections... they keep you down, you gotta cut 'em out! Look at me! Look how free!" he said and began to dance to the music while Harley continued to swing her bat on Nightwing just behind him. Dick screamed through his gag, each blow landed with a sharp thud.
The program beeped. An address came up on the screen. Bruce turned to Clark who nodded and in a second was gone like a shot.
"I should go too..." Kara said.
"No," Bruce turned to her. "You're not ready." She wanted to argue but she knew he was right. She was not in control of herself yet.
#
Superman ripped through the skies, he was only seconds away. A helicopter swung ahead of him without noticing. He stopped, just short of hitting it. CATCO was written only the side of it. Inside a man scrambled to find his camera. He pick it up and focused on Superman. Behind them, a police helicopter swung down, two officers opened the sliding door, they were both armed though they kept their guns aimed down and their hands out toward him.
"Do you want to make a statement?" the cameraman yelled over the propellers.
Bruce's voice broke through the comm in Superman's ear. "They're going to kill him!" Superman bypassed the helicopters, flying like a missile through the side of the warehouse where the video was coming from. He rose among the dust, ready to strike.
The warehouse was quiet. Dark except for one spot where a light hung down, falling over Nightwing who remained in the chair. Superman walked towards it. He looked around the room and listened, no one else was here.
"Superman?" Bruce's voice called, "...do you see them?" Clark could smell the blood in the air, like pennies in his mouth.
"Bruce he's..."
"No, the video's still on! Are you in the right place?" Clark moved up to the body. A red make-up smile had been painted on his lips.
At the Batcave, Bruce and Kara watched as the video continued to play. "Oh, I forgot to tell you, it's a rerun tonight..." Joker said over the speaker, but in the video his mouth didn't move. Bruce realized the audio was coming from the Nightwing's comm, not the video. On the screen, Joker pulled a revolver from his belt, its barrel long and heavy, Joker struggled to aim it at Dick's head. "Cut the connections. And then you'll be free!" the Joker laughed and pulled the trigger.