The mission had failed again, and William looked glum on the way back.
He finally understood why this mission had been marked as highly difficult.
Back at the Gotham police station, Gordon dragged William into another hour of paperwork.
After sorting out the files on his desk, Gordon went to the break room for a cup of self-serve coffee. When he came out, his mustache was covered in cookie crumbs.
"I forgot to ask. What did you borrow my car for?"
"I met a girl a couple of days ago. Took her out for a meal."
William had prepared his excuse long ago. Gordon suspected nothing, and the two chatted as they walked into the underground garage.
"I met Barbara at your age, too. Our first date was at a French restaurant. I couldn't afford formal wear, so I borrowed a tailcoat from Bullock, but it didn't fit at all."
"She said I looked like a kid wearing stolen grown-up clothes."
William's words seemed to have touched Gordon's most cherished memories. A rare smile lit up the middle-aged man's face the whole way.
Finally, they stopped beside the car, and Gordon patted William's shoulder.
"I support you going after love, but I don't want to see you turn to crime for money that isn't yours."
BOOM!
Without warning, the car exploded.
The blast knocked them both off their feet.
This was probably William's first experience of an explosion at close range. Before this, he had never even set off firecrackers up close.
His head spun, his limbs went weak, and a piercing ringing echoed inside his skull. The whole world seemed to have become a ship pitching in a storm.
He forced himself up and opened his eyes. The burning wreckage of the car filled his vision, and Gordon lay motionless two or three steps away.
"Mr. Gordon!" William called weakly.
He crawled forward, his hands scraping over debris on the floor.
Suddenly, a pointed leather shoe stepped on the back of his hand.
A man wearing a knitted mask crouched in front of William. He extended his index finger and flippantly lifted William's chin.
"Buddy, this is just a little warning. Keep sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, and the next explosion will be right under your ass."
Damn it, who the hell is this guy?
He seems to be after me.
Gordon's car had exploded, but the masked man's warning was directed at William. Putting the two together, William worked out the truth.
"Hey, little cop. Are you even listening?!"
The man let out a short, cold chuckle behind his mask and patted William's cheek with the back of his hand.
The next instant, a size 8.5 US foot came flying in from the side.
It slammed squarely into the masked man's face.
"Stay away from my people!!!"
With Gordon's low roar, the assailant went flying.
Without stopping to wipe the blood from his forehead, Gordon strode forward and delivered another kick as the masked man tried to get up.
The masked man was stunned by the combination. He had never expected anyone to get up so quickly after a close-range blast, much less retain that much fighting strength.
He had only come to issue a warning. Given who these two were, killing them would be troublesome. If he stayed any longer, his identity might be exposed!
Weighing his options, he quickly scrambled up and ran toward the garage exit, glancing back as he went.
Watching the masked man leave, Gordon let out a long breath now that the threat was gone. His trembling legs gave way, but William rushed over and caught him.
"Are you all right?!"
"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy."
Gordon felt himself over. Once he was sure no flying shrapnel had hit him, he slowly stood with William's support.
After recovering his senses, Gordon sighed repeatedly, his left hand on his hip and his right braced against a concrete pillar.
He couldn't bring himself to look back at the burned-out shell of his car. His insurance company had filed for bankruptcy protection just last month. That meant he had lost his transportation entirely-and still had to keep making payments to the bank.
"Bastard... damn it, he actually did this at the police station. If I ever see him again..."
"Mr. Gordon, do you want to catch him?"
William suddenly spoke while examining his facial injuries in a car's side mirror.
"Of course!"
Gordon's voice rose sharply.
"But do you know where he ran off to?"
Of course William knew.
He had just marked the masked man with a beacon.
Since the man wasn't a valid target for winning over, William couldn't see his affection level or thoughts.
The only benefit was being able to track his exact location in real time.
Dares slipped into an alley, pulled off his mask, and took a phone from his pocket.
"I've warned him, but things might not turn out as you expected. I ran into James Gordon. If he's the one investigating this case..."
"I understand. But your voice sounds strange."
"Does it?"
Dares felt his teeth. There was a new gap where one of his front teeth had been.
He hung up with a dark expression, walked through the alley, and got into the car parked by the curb.
It looked like he would have to stop at a dental clinic before returning to the company.
He fastened his seat belt and turned the wheel. The sports car roared down the street.
Streetlights streamed backward through his field of vision, and heavy rain drummed on the roof. Dares switched on the radio. After a burst of static, an announcer's polished, lilting voice came through.
GDP was rising, the employment crisis was easing, and numerous public facilities were slated for construction. The Gotham City described by the announcer was always bright and fresh.
Dares stopped at a traffic light and watched a group of protesters cross the street.
They were protesting Wayne Enterprises' closure of welfare institutions and the justice system's indulgence of criminal gang leaders.
The car windows trembled with their shouts. Looking at the rain-soaked crowd, Dares touched his lips and curled them into a mocking smile.
BEEP!
A police siren suddenly sounded behind the stalled traffic, making Dares sit bolt upright.
He had expected this. After all, roadblocks and searches were perfectly normal after an explosion in the police station's parking garage.
Dares got his documents ready and stole a glance at the rearview mirror.
Goddamn it. A furious James was walking straight toward him, passing every car behind him.
"Calm down. Open the window and let him check. You changed clothes, and your face was covered back then. There's no evidence linking you to the bombing!"
Dares gripped the steering wheel and cleared his throat.
He had almost forced himself to calm down-until he saw James Gordon draw his service pistol...
He's coming for me!!!!
He wrenched the wheel and floored the accelerator. Dares smashed through the barrier and shot into the oncoming lane.
Gordon had still been doubtful about William's judgment, but the suspect's actions confirmed it.
"Stop!"
He shouted, drawing his pistol and taking aim.
An expert marksman like him should have been able to shoot out a tire and stop the suspect. But worried that a ricocheting bullet might hurt someone, he could only watch the suspect's car speed away.
"Get in!"
William had driven the police car into the oncoming lane too and stopped beside Gordon.
The car chase indispensable to any Hollywood blockbuster was about to begin, and he looked unusually excited.
Gordon jumped into the passenger seat, took a police beacon from the storage compartment, and slapped it onto the roof.
And just like that, a wrong-way chase began.
William certainly didn't have a secret agent's driving skills. Dodging back and forth amid blaring horns and headlights, he was drenched in sweat after just one block.
He stomped on the accelerator, and the police car roared forward over the slick asphalt.
The tires slipped in the rain, and the rear end suddenly swung hard to one side.
"William, can you handle this?!" Gordon gripped the handle above the door with one hand, his gaze locked on the sports car fleeing wildly ahead.
"I can't promise anything, but I'll try!!!!"
The light ahead turned red, and traffic backed up.
But the sports car showed no sign of slowing. Its wheels jerked left, and it slipped through a gap, brushing a taxi's bumper. Its tires threw up waist-high sprays of water. Shrill horns blended into a continuous din in the rainy night.
"This guy has a death wish!"
William gritted his teeth and yanked the wheel to follow. The police car forced its way between two vehicles, its side mirror scraping a bus and shattering into glass fragments that scattered across the road.
Rain blurred the windshield. The wipers swung frantically, but they simply couldn't keep up with the downpour.
The black sports car's taillights flickered through the curtain of rain.
Just as the distance between them kept widening, the sports car's rear suddenly swung out of control, fishtailing across the slick road.
Clearly, its rear wheels had lost traction.
CRASH!
With a thunderous impact, the car ahead finally buckled under the pressure and slammed into a large oncoming vehicle.
Gordon's mouth fell open as he watched the sports car trace an arc through the rainy night's neon glow and slam into a roadside fire hydrant.
Before you continue