Mobilization

"You should've heard Loeb when we woke him up. He sounded like his mother had died. My guess is we scared him limp while he was on top of his mistress."

Li Jie yawned and leaned back in his chair, rocking it back and forth on two legs.

"Jay, actually, according to most people's sleep cycles, the brain is already sluggish and exhausted after four in the morning. Almost no one would be having relations with the opposite sex at that hour..."

"Fine, Ed. I'm sure you're always right." Li Jie gave Nygma a thoroughly insincere thumbs-up. "Help me think this through. Is their target Arkham Asylum?"

"Honestly, I don't know this time either. We know very little about his overall strength. We've only seen the few people who appeared on the surveillance footage, so it's difficult to draw conclusions. Actually..."

He pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. "There are plenty of places we need to protect, but we don't have enough people. Gotham City is too big, our officers are spread too thin, and the GCPD has too many unfilled positions."

Nygma stopped there and sighed softly. Silence settled over the room. Wilson looked from one person to another. "Don't look so depressed. Aren't you going to ask what good news I have?"

"No need. You definitely don't have any... Yaaawn... Fuck, I'm exhausted..."

"Bullshit! The building next door is finished! Forensics and the medical examiner's office can open for business!"

"Huh?"

Li Jie jolted, nearly tipping himself out of his chair. "Stop bullshitting. The cement couldn't even be dry yet."

"Uh... We didn't redo the floors..."

"Then there's no way they finished painting the rooms..."

"We didn't paint them either..."

"Fuck! Then what the hell did they do?"

"Well..." Wilson scratched his head. "You needed it urgently, right? I gave them an... They came up with an idea themselves. They just hauled the garbage out of those rooms, replaced the broken doors and windows, smashed out the sinks and installed big, specially made corrosion-resistant ones, and fixed the clogged drainpipes and floor drains and stuff. The plumbing and wiring were already there anyway. Just pay to get them turned on. That's all they fixed."

"What do you think, Ed? Can you make do with that for now?"

Li Jie turned around and caught a glimmer of eager anticipation on Nygma's face. "All right. Anna will go with you to buy equipment today. I'll have Cobblepot send over the severed hand and everything else. We're open for business!"

"This is a briefing from the East End. They believe Black Mask's potential targets aren't limited to Arkham."

Gordon placed a fax on the desk. "I think we need to raise our alert level."

Gillian Loeb glanced at Gordon with reluctant irritation, then slowly picked up the sheet.

"Arkham Asylum, Blackgate Penitentiary, the Falcone Family Memorial Hall, the Roman Gang Territory Vault, the Gotham Police Department Evidence Vault, Wayne Tower, the mansions in the Diamond District... You might as well attach a map of all Gotham."

"Uh... Jim, I greatly appreciate this... vigilance and foresight from you and our colleagues in the East End. This report is extremely detailed and very thorough. This is indeed a serious issue, and we must give it our full attention."

Loeb set the paper down, leaned forward slightly, and folded his hands on the desk, his expression utterly sincere.

"How about this?" He picked up a pen and circled several entries on the list. "These locations you've mentioned all make sense. I'll immediately instruct every precinct and district to remain vigilant and increase patrols, to ensure nothing goes wrong."

"Especially Arkham and Blackgate Penitentiary, which you've singled out. I'll put SWAT on standby. As for the other potential targets..."

He paused and gave Gordon a meaningful look.

"...we can't throw ourselves into disarray, can we? Our manpower is limited. Gotham has thousands upon thousands of cases to handle every day. If we send everyone out to guard every possible building, how are we supposed to carry out normal police work? What would the citizens think? What would the mayor think?"

"This briefing is very valuable. Leave it with me for now. I'll study it carefully and bring it up for serious discussion at today's command meeting. Your task right now is to concentrate on securing Arkham and Blackgate Penitentiary according to our established plan. That's our core responsibility. Understand?"

"But, Chief, I think you're oversimplifying this. If we don't take precautions elsewhere, we'll have a major disaster on our hands. You should ask the state..."

"Enough, James Gordon. Do you not understand what I'm saying? Your grasp of language is truly astonishing."

Loeb exhaled heavily and slapped the fax onto the desk, his face full of scorn. "Detective Gordon, your job here is to catch the criminals disrupting Gotham, not drag me into playing jigsaw puzzles with you. Did you call me at four in the morning so I could help you pick the right answer?"

He tapped the locations on the sheet. "If this Black Mask really is stupid enough to get himself killed by storming Blackgate Penitentiary or the Gotham Police Department, that would make things simple."

"It's just friction and dealings between two gangsters. Who the hell is this Cobblepot? The GCPD has no obligation to serve him personally."

Loeb folded the fax in half, then in half again, and tossed the little square back to Gordon. "Remember, our officers' first priority is protecting City Hall and the Mayor's Mansion. Second, we cooperate with Mr. Falcone to protect his property and keep his people from making trouble in the streets. Third, have SWAT guard Blackgate Penitentiary, and send your people to watch those lunatics in Arkham. We can't let them out running wild. Everyone else can handle their own responsibilities. We can't take care of everything."

"God," he said, shaking his head. "Why can't you people get Gotham back to the way it used to be? What the hell are you good for?"

"There's a good chance we'll have a major operation today. It'll be highly dangerous."

Li Jie walked up to a desk at the front of the East End Police Department's main room and addressed all the officers. "We need to send at least five to seven cars to support Central Headquarters. That's fifteen to twenty people. Everyone who goes gets a thousand-dollar bonus. If you're killed in the line of duty, there'll be an extra ten thousand on top of the standard death benefits and rewards. That's the most I can put up."

The station went utterly silent. No matter how much money was on offer, you had to stay alive to spend it.

"If you want to go, you can volunteer. If we're too short, Bob may have to call names later, but I won't make any recommendations."

No one spoke, but a few hands went up.

Wilson, Alan, Otis, Anna-none of them surprised him. What did surprise him was Police Lieutenant Albert raising his hand too.

"Al, seriously, you don't have to..." Li Jie's voice softened. "You've got less than six months until retirement. Why don't you stay and hold the station?"

"No." Albert shook his head and slowly walked to the front. "Honestly, everyone, the doctor told me yesterday that my test results weren't good. I might not make it to retirement. I thought... I could die with a little honor, and get a few extra bucks out of it."

He gave a bitter, self-mocking smile, pulled two paper bags out of his pocket, and set them on the desk. "Anyone want to place another bet? Let's wager on whether I come back alive."

He took out a green bill and dropped it into the bag on the left. "A hundred bucks says I'm dead."

The officers exchanged bewildered looks, unsure what to do. Li Jie patted Albert's shoulder and reached into his pocket.

"Don't be so down. You've still got a few months of salary to collect, at least. I'll bet a hundred bucks too. You're definitely coming back alive..."

His expression suddenly turned painfully awkward, and he swept his gaze over the crowd.

"Wilson, quick! Lend me a hundred bucks!"

"You fucking..."

Wilson shook his head, sighed, and walked over. He took out two bills and dropped them into the bag on the right.

"I'm betting a hundred too. You're not dying. Anyone else?"

A thin figure stepped forward and placed a hundred dollars in the right-hand bag.

"Although, from a medical standp-mmph, mmph..."

Before Nygma could finish, Li Jie clamped a hand over his mouth and dragged him aside. Then Alan, Anna, and Otis stood up too, looking a little uneasy.

"I... I've only got fifteen dollars. You're going to be all right."

More and more officers stepped forward, dropping money into the right-hand bag one after another. Albert watched the bills begin to overflow and quietly turned away. After a while, he turned back, sniffed, and said with a smile, "Ha, now... heh, now I'm going to be rich."

"Not necessarily, Lieutenant. But would you be willing to ride in the lead car with me?"

"Albert reporting for duty, Sheriff!" He gave Li Jie a textbook police salute. "I'll show them that East End cops don't just skim money. We can shoot too!"

"Beautiful!"

Li Jie patted Albert again and had him sit down, then asked the others, "Anyone else want to go?"

"Me!"

"Me too!"

Arms rose one after another like shoots after a spring rain, until almost everyone had a hand up.

"Okay. Thank you, everyone. We'll send five cars, three people in each. I need five temporary team leaders." His gaze moved through the crowd. "Wilson!"

"Here!"

"Jacob! Marcus! Daniel! Christopher!"

"Here, Sheriff!"

"All five of you have fired a gun, seen blood, and killed someone. You'll each be responsible for one patrol car." Li Jie drew a small breath and continued solemnly. "But your job isn't to lead them after the criminals and earn commendations. It's to keep them out of the line of fire and alive."

"This is a joint operation with Central Headquarters. My car will always be out in front of you, but everyone else should try not to get ahead of their cars. You are not permitted to retreat without orders, but... I authorize you to choose between holding your position until help arrives and maneuvering around to flank the enemy, depending on the situation."

"Choose your own team members. Everyone, including the officers staying at the station, get your gear in order and check your weapons."

He frowned in thought, as if he had realized he was forgetting something.

"Anna!"

"Here, Sheriff!"

"You're riding with Wilson. He's strictly forbidden from using any weapon other than a Glock 17. Dale..."

He looked at Wilson and said gravely, "Your injuries haven't healed. Don't be an idiot and try to play the hero. Don't put anyone in danger because they have to rescue you."

"Understood, sir!" Wilson nodded seriously too. "From this moment on, I'm keeping my head tucked firmly inside my shell."

"And..."

Li Jie held out a hand to Otis. "You're riding in the lead car with me. Scared?"

"N-no, sir." Otis stood, his face a little pale, but he nodded firmly. "I'll be fine."

Smoke hung thick in the conference room, mingling with the burnt bitterness of cheap coffee and the sour sweat of an all-nighter. Dozens of officers from Central Headquarters slouched in their seats. Some yawned; others looked down and fiddled with pens. Their eyes were full of exhaustion and detached indifference. When James Gordon strode to the front, a few scattered gazes settled on him. Most ignored him.

His back was as straight as the collar of his trench coat. He neither pounded the table nor raised his voice, merely swept his piercing blue eyes slowly across the room. A silence like a cold front crept in, smothering the whispers.

"I know what time it is." Gordon's voice struck everyone's eardrums like a hammer. "And I know what many of you are thinking. Another gang mess. Another lunatic trying to climb the ladder. What's that got to do with us? Get through the night shift, go home, get some sleep."

He paused, his gaze lingering on a few faces that had lowered.

"But if that were all this was, I wouldn't be standing here after calling you away from your posts." He pulled a photograph from his pocket and held it up. It was a close-up of the wooden box Cobblepot had received. The twisted, pallid severed hand looked especially stark in the dim light. Involuntary gasps and muttered curses rose from the room.

"This man calls himself Black Mask. He doesn't follow rules, and he doesn't want territory. He wants to spread fear like a plague into every corner of Gotham. He sends messages through torture and murder. He declares war with the limbs of innocent people."

His knuckles whitened around the photograph. "He's no longer threatening just some gang boss. He's threatening the line this city cannot allow anyone to cross. If we back down tonight, if tomorrow morning the people of Gotham learn that a group of police officers let a sadistic killer walk free because they 'didn't want trouble,' then tell me-"

For the first time, his voice rose sharply, his blazing gaze pinning each of them in turn. "Who can they still trust? What does the badge on our chest even mean anymore?"

The room was utterly silent. Its earlier indifference slowly gave way to an uneasy stillness, and a few hardened veterans unconsciously straightened their backs.

"I've heard plenty of complaints," Gordon continued, his tone softening a little. "Complaints about pay, about superiors, about how this uniform brings nothing but trouble and danger. I know all of it." He pointed at himself. "I'm just like you. I face those things every day."

"But I also know that on the day each of us chose to put on this uniform, we swore an oath to the Constitution. We said we would protect and serve, remain impartial, and uphold the law."

"That oath wasn't made to the chief. It wasn't made to the mayor. It wasn't even made to each other. It was a promise to every man, woman, and child in Gotham City!"

"Tonight is the time to keep that promise."

"I won't lie and tell you this is safe. On the contrary, I know exactly what we're facing. Cruelty. Madness. Violence unlike anything we've seen before." His gaze passed over the tense faces of several young officers. "It's normal to be afraid. I'm afraid too."

"But we can't turn our backs just because we're afraid! It's precisely because there's darkness there that we need to stand against it!"

He abruptly drew himself upright and spoke with absolute resolve. "Our mission is to hold Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Penitentiary. We will build a defensive line there, and we will not give the dangers inside any chance to spill out and hurt this city. This isn't for Falcone. It isn't for Cobblepot. It's for Gotham! For every ordinary person who deserves to sleep in peace!"

"If you're willing to come with me, go to the Armory now and draw long guns and bulletproof vests. Once the operation is over, I'll personally put every one of you forward for a commendation. If you're unwilling, you can stay. I won't force you, and it won't go on any record."

With that, he stopped looking at anyone. The hem of his trench coat swept in an arc as he turned and walked toward the door, as though some decision had been firmly made.

The conference room remained deathly quiet for several seconds.

Then came the harsh scrape of chair legs against the floor.

One, two, five, ten...

The silent officers stood. On most of their faces, exhaustion and cynicism had vanished, replaced by an awakened gravity and resolve. They said nothing, merely followed in quiet rows behind the figure heading into the dark depths of the hallway. Only their footsteps echoed through the empty corridor.