"Long live the Soviet Union!"
KGB Beast hammered his fist against his chest. Graying hair poked out from beneath his wrinkled, peeling black mask.
Gordon rubbed the bridge of his nose. Though he had finally managed to pull himself together, the situation was rather troublesome.
He recognized the man. In fact, he remembered him vividly. When they had arrested him back then, the fellow had been about the same age Gordon was now. Yet, more than a decade later, he had kept himself in remarkably good shape.
Just look at those perfect muscles, gleaming with sweat beneath the spotlights. Even the tendons and winding veins were clearly visible. Gordon was certain that if he took a punch head-on, he would probably never get up again.
An old American agent with delusions had actually managed to remain disciplined in prison. It made Gordon feel ashamed of himself.
Oh, yes! "KGB Beast" Anatoli was not a Soviet agent, but a CIA operative working undercover. During the Cold War, he had stolen vast amounts of top-secret information about the space program for the CIA, only to have most of his memories erased and be abandoned after the Soviet Union collapsed.
The enormous psychological blow had damaged Anatoli's sense of identity. His years of living in the Soviet Union often led him to imagine that he was a KGB agent, and he had launched assassinations against his imagined targets.
Though he was seriously ill, his skills as a CIA agent remained intact. The Police Department had treated several of his assassinations of Gotham officials as accidents.
Until Gordon took over the case.
The GCPD had turned out in full force to capture KGB Beast, and Anatoli had lived up to that massive response. Without a bulletproof vest, he had taken three shots from Bullock