Taking Flight [Montoya]

[Deleted]

During the first day of his training, Bruce had spoken to his new Ward about the importance of opportunity and the ability to use said chance to ones own advantage to grow as both a fighter and as a person. Sliding a cloth over the rough plate that comprised a section of the Batmobile’s rear wheel arch, Dick wondered whether the opportunity would strike during the first coating of wax or the second. To put it simply, Gotham was a dirty City in more way than one, in fact the first thing he noticed when the circus arrived in Gotham all those months ago was just how grimy it really. Since he was old enough to walk he could remember trailing from one state to another, helping plant their tent in City after City – Hub, Central, Midway, Star but few could compare to the lurid stink of Gotham City. What was equally surprising was that while here the Circus had rented space in an area known as Robinson’s park which they’d been led to believe was a comparatively a high market portion of the City, inviting a young Dick to wonder how bad everywhere else looked. The morning of their first day of a three day performance schedule, he’d gone shopping with his Mother for a few basic supplies and what struck Dick was that no one else noticed just how bad everything looked! Like they held their eyes so high that they were either looking at the clouds or just didn’t want to think about it. Sure it wasn’t without a sense of glitz and glamour, but it was a lingering brightness from a buried yesterday, as if there’d been a conscious effort to cover up anything that could yank a bad memory back.

But all of that sordid disgusting terrible awful nastiness paled in comparison to whatever he’d found caught beneath the arch of the wheel, that no matter how much he tugged wouldn’t free itself. He figured that maybe there was a reason the Army rarely took their tanks through a car wash. The occasional dropping of bat leavings didn’t help either. “You’re late for one training session…this isn’t what I meant by cleaning up Gotham…my fight against grime, oh what are you doing Dick?” By this point he had been at it for the best part of an hour, running a sponge over the curves of bullet proof armour, removing the dirt that had once stained its impressive body. He figured it was so immaculate that maybe criminals would gasp at its beauty when its daunting frame slid into their rear view mirror. Taking a step back from his kneeling position, inspecting his handy work, Dick placed his hands on his hips before sighing in frustration. He wiped his brow with soap drenched fingers.

At least it had afforded him the opportunity to spend some time alone in the Batcave, a sight that continued to remain a sight of wonder every time the lift doors parted. Every time, its cavernous halls of stone and machinery filled his heart with the same child-like wonder, which was maybe just wonder since he was still technically a kid. The shock of its revelation was now replaced with a warm sense of hope that it afforded, that this was his home and from here they could wage their war against Crime. Or at least Bruce could, while he was seemingly relegated to watching from the side lines. Even standing with a sponge, kneeling by a grimy tank, it felt like entering Narnia through the wardrobe, Alice falling into wonderland, every fairy-tale legend brought to life and wrapped together in a bat themed bundle. It was a legend that he hoped he would one day have the chance to further carve out as Robin. Dropping the cleaning item in the waiting bucket, he dried his hands and moved away from the car, taking the flight of stairs that joined the garage to the central hub where the bat-computer sat in its technological splendour. Its cobalt computer screen hummed in the darkness, its impressive area of utensils awaiting input. From here they could watch the City, keep an eye on its criminal dealings.

As he approached and dropped himself down into the large leather swivel chair, Dick pondered for a moment why he didn’t have his own chair, looking at the empty space off to the left and then shrugged it off before his attention was caught by the icon on the desk top that had begun to burn a deep crimson for attention. It read POLICE SCANNER. Twisting the chair around, he gave a brief glance to make sure he was alone. “Attention all cars, be on the look-out for a man in his late twenties, wanted in connection to the murder of one Jessica Gardens, last seen fleeing to Dini Plaza, considered armed and dangerous.” With a light tap, his fingers danced around on the edge of the metal desk as he mused over what could be done. Bruce had left for his fund raiser at the Gotham Historical Society, so he was bound to be absent for most of the night. If anything, it was his responsibility, it was Robin’s responsibility, to respond to this with Batman by his side or not, and at this point anything would beat buffing the scratches on the car. Leading off down from the platform ran the instant access armoury, a collection of suits lined for quick access in times of emergency. Lifting from the chair Grayson stood before the selection of outfits, most of them belonging to the Caped Crusader. All bar one. Its domino masked stared back, the red of its outfit illuminated by a light from above. Lifting a palm, Dick pressed his hand to the glass. Tonight would be his, before anyone would even notice.

[Deleted]

Jessica Gardens - a student of Gotham University that was working towards a career in finance, she wasn't perfect as her personal life was a bit of a mess, she didn't have the best choice in men, she had a good chunk of debt, and she was dealing with some issues with anxiety - these were things she was trying to fix. She was raising her standards with men, she was putting her debt at a higher priority and she was going to therapy. The good relationship with her family was also a helpful aspect to getting through these things - this all changed in a single day, when her life was snatched from her in a stabbing in her own apartment. 

Detective Renee Montoya along with a squad of officers are in her apartment the night of her murder, and it is a murder - no two ways about it. Nobody does this to themselves with a knife - a dozen knife wounds to the torso, in different spots all over - this was an attack. Renee's partner, Detective Krause, was here not long ago, but he and Renee agreed that he should go out and see what information he can get from the people that know the victim to see if they can get any clues on who might have done this. 

Renee walks around the apartment, examining her surroundings as the officers take pictures of the crime scene, every few seconds a flash and the sound of a camera can be heard. This doesn't seem to have been premeditated, it's a messy scene, the bloodied knife is stuffed into an evidence bag, it had been too far away from the body for this to have been done by her hand - the apartment happens to also be a bit of a wreck, as if stuff been thrown around - a shattered lamp, a cracked mirror in the bathroom and a hole in the wall. With a bit more time, Renee could probably stitch these clues together to get a full idea of what has happened, she mutters to herself under her breath. "Her partner did it...no doubt, these clues point towards domestic violence."

Luckily, nobody is in to hear her getting lost with her own thoughts, inspecting every inch of the apartment to see what more information she can find - even an open and shut case can come up with new evidence that points in a completely different direction. Before Renee can find out everything she needs to know, the police radio on her hip starts to blare with the voice of the operator, “Attention all cars, be on the look-out for a man in his late twenties, wanted in connection to the murder of one Jessica Gardens, last seen fleeing to Dini Plaza, considered armed and dangerous.” - seems like Krause did his job well. Montoya grabs the radio and unhooks it from her jeans, pressing her thumb down on the button as she talks into radio. "10-4, I'm on it." Montoya releases her press on the radio as she begins to make her way out of the apartment. "Alright, I'm headin' out to find out if this is our perp - the rest of you finish up here, make sure the family is informed."

Renee has always been the kind who has opted to go after suspects herself, much to her Captain's dismay - normally, she'd bring Krause with her, but he had a job to do and he managed to do it - that's what's gotten her to this point. Soon she's out of the apartment complex and in her cruiser, she hits the gas and flips on the sirens as they loudly blare through the streets as she makes her way towards Dini Plaza. She remembers that the body seems to have been relatively fresh, so she figured he didn't get too far - if she had to guess, he might have been spotted fleeing by a neighbour or someone on the street. Knife wounds are messy, too - he's probably covered in blood. Not a good look even if you manage to get out of the building unseen, there hadn't been blood in the sink either, so he probably hasn't even made an attempt to get himself cleaned up. 

Her eyes narrow as she drives around the corner, she's getting close to the location - the fact he's armed usually isn't something to worry about, most guys don't have the balls to pull the trigger on a cop. She's not going to take the risk either way, she has her firearm in her holster and will use it if she has to. As she brings her cruiser to a stop outside Dini Plaza, she unhooks her cruiser radio, moving it to her mouth. "Detective Montoya. 10-23. No signs of the suspect yet, I'm gonna have a look around." She doesn't wait for a response before she puts the radio back down and exits the cruiser, she hovers her hand over the firearm in the holster as she enters Dini Plaza, ready for anything...

[Deleted]

Locking the keys into the ignition with the twist of his wrist, the bike’s engine laughed itself into a thunderous purr. The low chorus of its steel exhaust howled through the empty space of the Batcave, shaking Robin in the folds of the scant rider’s seat. Twisting the roll of its handle, the bike’s wheels rolled and the pride of WayneTech engineering carried itself from the bay. Running from its allocated section in the garage, a single raised platform swung through the twists and edges of the cave carrying Robin out into the crisp evening air through an opened section of pulled back rock face. From this previously concealed exit, a narrow lane ran from the rear of the House down through the bordering woodland towards the main road, barely two miles of privacy to distract from the vehicle’s original point from the Wayne residence. Turning from the Mansion, directing the front wheel towards the swirling hub of buildings that peaked the distant horizon, Robin let it have it.

Fingers wrapped around the handlebar, the vibrations from the six-stroke numbed his touch, every pause of action filled with a bolt action movement from the gear box, his foot lifting and settling to key the next volley of fire from the exhaust. Unfiltered heaviness emptied from the engine, carrying the vehicle through the tight winds and bends of the pathway. This was a freedom, the sense of freedom that had pushed the teen to say yes to Bruce those short months ago, the rush of exhilaration that he’d longed to feel again. Put simply, his life with the Circus had hardwired his sense of adrenaline to a state that required sated attention, something a personalised motorcycle was more than capable of providing. Having constructed it in such a short period of time, Dick knew that it was likely designed from an earlier concept prototype Bruce must have examined earlier in his career. Dick had only had the opportunity to ride it a few times around the modest test centre built into the catacombs of the cave system back at the Manor. But he was a natural and everything felt just right, as if there was no where else on Earth he was meant to be more than on the seat of his automotive beauty.

Eventually the quiet of damp greenery faded into a haze of granite and steel, something Dick hadn’t noticed until his foot lifted from the accelerator and the World returned to focus. Gotham. The lingering, heaving, crying, labyrinth that would put Knossos to shame. Puddles marked the streets, a few dazed faces the corners, mouths ajar at the thundering phantom that bolted by their curb. This was Downtown. New structures built to cement over past grime, to give the City a look towards the horizon of tomorrow, or so a passing billboard declared. A thin veil of modernity to hide away the scars of yester-year. There’d been seldom opportunity for Dick to enter the City on his own, it still stung with an alien quality that filled him with a foreboding sense of dread, a notion only calmed by the GPS system on the bike’s small but adequate screen which kept him on track. It’s flashing guide reminded him that he was approaching the site of the recorded spotting.

Turning around the corner with a sudden jolt, the bike span through the main boulevard into Dini Plaza. Thankfully the Plaza had been under renovations for a number of weeks, receiving a much needed facelift to the fading boutiques and outlets that lined its borders. A fence ran across the entrance, signs bolted to it signalling construction in progress though the few vehicles, a cement mixer and small digger, stood vacant. However, to Robin’s surprise a cruiser stood waiting before the small run of steps that stood before the Plaza. For all his journey here, he’d never once considered the guaranteed presence of Law Enforcement. Maybe he hoped they’d be elsewhere, tracking off into separate directions searching for the wanted figure. His fingers clenched the breaks maybe sharper than he’d have liked, skidding the bike up next to the GCPD vehicle.

Thankfully he didn’t recognise the Detective that stood waiting, though he hadn’t had to speak to any representative since the accident. Hopping from the bike, which locked itself upon his movement with the dropping an automated kick stand to the floor, Robin held his shoulders back and placed his hands on his hips in one single apparently authoritative motion. “Hey, I’m Robin and I’d like to help.” Unfortunately the domino mask was unlikely to help with his blushing cheeks. In his defence he wasn’t quite sure how Batman interacted with the police, probably with a little more grimacing.

[Deleted]

Renee was looking around for a good five minutes, no signs of life - is this a false lead? She relaxes her posture slightly, her eyes darting around slightly to keep a look out for any potential signs of the suspect, she speaks out loud. "GCPD! If anyone is here, show yourself - we just wanna ask some questions!" She pauses, waiting for any kind of response, she gives it a minute - but nothing. "I repeat, this is the GCPD - unless ya have somethin' to hide, then come on out...don't make this any harder than it's gotta be, alright?"

Renee backs away from the plaza, as fearless as she is - she's not going into a building under renovations herself, she's not afraid of the person inside, but she doesn't know how deep these renovations go. The only thing more dangerous than the person that may or may not be inside is the building itself, for all she knows it might be filled with loose floorboards or ceilings ready to collapse - she'll go in if the suspect doesn't come out, but she needs to be sure he's in there before she does anything - she folds her arms, waiting a short while longer - but, nothing.

The raven haired detective reaches down, grabbing hold of her police radio on her hip, lifting it up to her lips and pushing her thumb down on the button, causing the static sound to begin. "Dispatch, this is Montoya again. Still on scene, still no sign of the suspect - who's my RP?" There's a pause as she lifts her thumb off of the button before she hears from the other end of the radio, "No names, detective, RP wanted to remain anonymous." Montoya rolls her eyes, typical, she never really understands why people call in crimes anonymously, but she presses her thumb down on the button again. "Great. Alright, can ya let Detective Krause know where I am? He might want in on this." With a pause, the dispatch responds. "Copy, will pass on the message, over."

Montoya clips the radio back onto her hip, before she can take any action, she hears the sound of a roaring engine - she recognises the sound immediately, it's a motorcycle, she doesn't really have time for people speeding and decides that she might as well give them a free pass. This is before she notices the bike coming into view as it drifts round the corner and pulls up in front of the building - is this the suspect? Montoya doesn't hesitate, she makes her way down the stairs and draws her firearm, clasping it with both hands as the person hops off of the bike. She's about to aim it in his direction before he identifies himself as 'Robin', she also notices he looks young and is dressed in a ridiculous costume. Great. 

Renee holsters her pistol, holding up her badge as she moves towards the boy, showing her rank of authority, hopefully so that he figures out this is a serious situation that he shouldn't be anywhere near. Montoya releases the badge as it settles back onto her chest, Montoya folds her arms across her chest as she looks him up and down with an expression of disgust. "Get lost, kid - it ain't Halloween yet, and it ain't safe for ya around here." As if this situation isn't enough of a mess, someone who is clearly not an adult decides to show up in a costume, she mutters under her breath with her eyes closed in disbelief. "First Batman, now this crap...this better not become some kinda trend..." She turns her back to him as she looks back up at the plaza, speaking to him without even looking at him. "If ya don't get outta here, I'll need to detain ya. It'll be for your own safety, so I recommend following my initial advice - Beat it."

[Deleted]

Still posing with his hands firmly latched to his utility belt, half of which was still a mystery that would call on him to pause if he needed to quickly grab something particular from its various sections, Robin took a step forward towards the Detective. A lift ripple of wind gave movement to his cape, its folds of yellow and black draping across his shoulders. When he'd first arrived at the Manor, Dick was no stranger to an intense physical workout plan - in fact the day to day of his earlier life revolved around practise, however since living with Bruce his already slim frame had found itself carrying more weight than would ever have been possible for a child of his family's means. Therefore, although shorter than the woman he did have a brawnier frame than most people his age. While moving slightly forward he noted the badge that she'd removed, arching an eyebrow as if he wasn't already aware of her position of authority. In response he glanced downwards at his own symbol of note, the small golden 'R' carved into the weave of his armoured chest piece. Not quite as noticeable as a bat but the festive green more than made up for it. 

"If it was safe I wouldn't be wearing this stuff!" His palm ran down and picked up an end of the cape to add emphasis to his point, moving it with his hand while speaking. "Look, I don't think we should be wasting time out here. I know what's going on and I know I can help, and no offence I'm not sure you could do much about it even if you do think I shouldn't be here." Somehow Dick felt that maybe Batman didn't get these kind of questions when he first turned up, owing to his darker presentation but he had to work with what he had. The last thing he wanted to be was confrontational with someone just doing their job but he'd heard Bruce make reference to the value of opportunity enough to know not to squander it standing on a street corner. "I'm heading in so we can get that guy, it'd help if you were there for the handcuff bit." It was true, the last thing he wanted to do was spend five minutes rooting around his gear waiting for the criminal to come back around.

Backing away, his hands now lifted in a passive manner, Robin began to move towards the closed off fence that ran across the border of the Plaza. It was a gambit he was willing to make, emphasising the importance of the task at hand over any complication between the two of them. It was true that he was young, inexperienced, but that didn't mean he couldn't try. Turning his head, he noticed that the railings weren't quite as secure as his first glance would have noticed, with a small section of the gate having been torn free to allow for someone to slide through with a degree of effort. The links of metal had been sheered, ripped by an uneven surface more than a swift slash - the work of someone knowing time wasn't on their side. Thankfully being a teenager had some benefits, allowing Robin to part the fence with his gloved hands and push his way through into the other side of the partially thrown together construction yard. A light tapping of rain had begun to fall, drops landing upon the canvas coverings of abandoned vehicles. 

[Deleted]

Montoya folds her arms across her chest as she looks the costumed teenager up and down as stands with his hands on his hips in an over-the-top manner, she notices various aspects of his costume, the R on the side of his chest, the flowing cape - material looks good, not the kind you'd find in a supermarket. Even the mask seems well crafted, the utility belt seems professional...this kid is either serious about this or one hell of a cosplayer. Squinting her eyes, she isn't the biggest fan of the color scheme - but she's realising that she doesn't recognise what the costume is. It's definitely no common Halloween costume...is he for real?

"Are ya serious, kid? You're wearin' a costume. That stuff ain't gonna help you against a bullet. That cape is gonna get ya caught on somethin', and I doubt that belt has anything to protect ya from a real criminal - face it, this ain't your scene." Montoya sighs as he tells her to stop wasting time, and for once she actually agrees, just humoring this kid is stopping her from going in and taking care of the criminal. She grabs hold of her firearm's handle, putting her free hand up to encourage him to remain still. "No-no-no-no, ya ain't going anywhere - if ya move a muscle, I'll shoot, got it?"

It seems like he doesn't really listen to her word of warning, he tells her that he's heading in and just brushes past her, "H-Hey! Didn't ya hear what I just said!? Don't move!" She hesitates, but draws her firearm and clenches it with both hands, aiming it in his direction - she has a clear shot, she can take him down right now with a single pull of the trigger. "Seriously...?" Montoya grits her teeth before groaning as he gets through, she sighs and puts the firearm back into the holster. Once again she grabs hold of the radio on her waistband again, moving it up to her mouth as she reports in to the operator.

"Montoya here again, gonna need a 10-21 on Detective Krause, going to need back-up on this one, 10-18." She releases the button, the operator quickly responds. "10-4, what's the situation?" Montoya looks behind her to see what the kid is up to before going back to the radio, pushing the button again. "Got a civilian interfering at the location, it's a kid, he went in - I'll detain him, but I've got a lot on my plate with this suspect already, just get Krause over here, alright?" She releases the button, scratching at her wrinkled forehead in frustration. "10-4, we'll get him on scene as soon as possible, over." Montoya clips the radio back onto her waistband, at this point, simply waiting for her partner - this situation is becoming a lot more frustrating than she originally expected.

[James Gordon]

The apartment building was big, almost too big. Why did so many people have to live so close together? Detective Sergeant Krause wasn't new to this however, he's been at it a fair amount of time. So long, in fact that he could have sworn this exact same murder has happened a couple times before. Man or woman that has their whole life ahead of them, then one day they just get murdered, usually by someone close to them. A lover, a former lover, a side lover, any type of lover could be guilty here. The body had a lot of stab wounds, it looked like it was a very personal altercation. Proof enough that the killer probably knew the victim. Detective Montoya felt that it was best that Krause did the canvasing of the surrounding area, he was barely better with people than she was, but he was still better. He knocked on doors one by one, it was such a large complex that several officers were there aiding him. One detective couldn't canvas that entire area. Even if some of the tenants didn't see or hear anything, what actually happened during the time of the murder was only half of the story. 

"Did she have any enemies?" 

"Have you seen anything odd lately?" 

"What visitors has she had lately?" 

"What is her relationship with her significant other like?" 

The same questions every time, but it wasn't as overwhelming as it may seem at first glance. First, the tenant had to be home, second, they had to be willing to talk to you. This was Downtown, so the folks down here were a bit more welcoming to the GCPD but in certain neighborhoods, you'd get a door slammed in your face every single time, without fail. The questions were meant to build a narrative, the narrative would later be used in court when and if they got the perpetrator. Detectives were meant to hunt, meant to discern fact from fiction, they were meant to deliver the offender to the District Attorneys office.

Detective Sergeant Krause with a Mrs. Robinson, a retired elderly woman that shouldn't be living on her own. He was about to finish his line of questioning, but Mrs. Robinson was rambling like she never received any visitors. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Robinson, we'll be in touch if we have any follow up questions" Mrs. Robinson eyes lit up at the idea that Detective Sergeant Krause might have follow up questions for her. "Of course Detective! You're such a kind Detective, trying to protect harmless citizens like me from the big bad evil men in this world."

"Oh yes, Mrs. Robinson. That's why they pay me the big bucks." Krause would stand up, flashing a smile as he moved to put his notebook away. That's when his radio sparked to life. "Your partner is looking for you, Sergeant Krause." Krause would go for the radio on his belt, bringing it close enough to speak into it. She is, huh? Where might I find this partner of mind?" Dispatch gave him the location, she was outside of Dini Plaza somewhat close to where they are now. Krause placed the radio back on his belt now that he knew where he needed to be. "Well if you'll excuse me Mrs. Robinson, duty calls." He smiled at her again and nodded at him silently, allowing him to leave and aid his partner.

Krause went out into the hall and ran into a uniformed officer. "My partner needs me, believe it or not so could you boys finish up here? It must be pretty serious since she's asking me for help. How close is it to April 1st?" Detective Montoya liked to do things on her own, and Krause was learning that very quickly.

"Yes Detective, we'll make sure we finish up here." The officer commented, not paying attention to Detective Krause's other comments.

"Great."

Krause went to the elevator, taking it to the lobby. He went outside of the Apartment building and made his way to where they parked.

"Oh so now she wants to drive." He sighed very heavily, starting to jog to the location that dispatch said his partner would be at. He wasn't in shape, not in the slightest. He wasn't too tired, but he did break a bit of a sweat. He finally made it to his partner, who had her weapon drawn and everything. He was panting and a little out of breath.

"Montoya! Heard you're having trouble with a kid, you decided to shoot him eh? You're doing the paperwork." He stood up straight and took a few deep breaths.

"Christ I'm out of shape. So tell me, what's the situation?"

[Deleted]

Beneath the seal of his tightly pressed domino mask, Dick frowned his eyebrows at the armed Detective. Although he’d never questioned their policy, knowing all too well the personal reasons that justified the decision, guns were a massive red flag in the eyes of Batman and it was a view Robin readily supported. Someone who actively stood with a gun in hand had clearly made a choice, and though obviously there existed occasions when the usage would be arguably unavoidable, that person has still decided to take the easy option – to have their authority stem from the loaded barrel of their sidearm. Whether it was the right thing to do or not, Robin believed that a gun was the weapon of their enemy and that it was something that they didn’t need, especially if they were to strike a unique fear into the hearts of criminals in a City already filled with every shade of gun-totting crazy. And if even if the person holding the weapon also held a badge, Robin couldn’t’ help but feel uneasy, though he’d hoped that in this particular case they were being driven purely by adrenaline. Having taken a deep breath he walked by her, eyeing the weapon readied for use. Flatly, aiming for an authority beyond his years he reaffirmed his stance. “Can you put that thing down, you might shoot someone.”

Once he’d moved beyond the entrance to the construction yard gate, Robin panned his vision across the array of emptied stores that now stood bare and vacant while the exterior revival was underway. Posters from a bygone age lined a far wall, torn into yellowed shreds above faded brickwork, scaffolding propped half arranged with some sections piled around a boutique while other pieces sat beneath tarp netting. In a maze like this it would have been easy for the prey to become the hunted, with the increasingly severe patter from the evening downpour failing to improve the already dwindling visibility. Before moving forward Robin closely inspected the floor beyond his feet, an area once covered by a tiled pattern of bricks which had now had its dirt underbelly torn free for renewal. The remains of pair of size nine sneakers tore out across the mud, not a set of workman’s boots which might be expected, darting along the yard marked by an occasional fumble owing to the puddles of rainwater that fell from the awnings. At least the rain had left them fresh enough to follow, a small blessing.

Creeping forward, Grayson charted the movements of the hurried assailant, narrowing his eyes due to the lack of clarity found in the dark recesses of the plaza. At some point he was sure there’d been a reference to the suit having an inbuilt vision lens to support nighttime surveillance, or perhaps it was only a mention of a future recommendation. Either way he couldn’t find the switch, if it existed, so his own eyes would have to serve for now.

From behind he heard the arrival of another figure and turned his head to the side with a slight glance, listening to the mumbled conversation between the Detective and the voice which likely belonged to a fellow Officer. If the rest of their department spent as much time chatting and waving guns it was no surprise they’d had such difficulty tracking the assailant. A part of him recognised why Batman so often chose to act beyond official means, relying only on his own intuition and know how rather than a winding chain of command based on inadequate procedure. As much as he hated to admit it, maybe the Police represented another problem that Gotham had found itself wrestling with that they in turn would have to deal with. Rarely did a conversation on the topic fail to lead back to the likes of Commissioner Loeb, who seemed to be everything a good cop shouldn’t be and yet no one had done anything about it! He had to remind himself that’s why they were here, to help where the Police couldn’t and support the Force’s better angels, if possible.

[Deleted]

Montoya's gun is firmly back in her holster, she might be tempted to pull it back out and shoot the little punk - but even though she finds herself annoyed, she can't find it in herself to shoot a minor. He should count himself lucky, though - there are some cops in the force that wouldn't hesitate, Montoya luckily isn't most cops, she has a conscience. Part of her wants to head inside on her own, but she decides against it as she turns her back to the squad car, leaning back against it and folding her arms across her chest.

She waits for around five minutes before her partner turns up to the scene, panting and looking like he's about to collapse on the spot - she can't help but smirk a little bit at the sight. "Ya really need to hit the gym more, Grouch. No, I wasn't gonna shoot the kid - just felt like he should get a warning about what might happen if another cop turned up here. Could ya imagine what would have happened if Officer Cordell turned up? This kid would be history." Pushing herself away from the squad car, she turns to face Krause.

"As for the situation - think we've cornered the suspect in this building - probably ain't safe in there. Wouldn't be surprised if we found the guy stuck in a broken floorboard or under a pile of rubble, guy really must be desperate to come to a place like this. Ya already saw what happened to Jessica Gardens, how much of a mess that crime scene was - if this is our suspect, he's probably covered in blood, armed and has nothing to lose." Montoya pauses as her eyes shift to glance over at the kid in the costume again, she inhales a deep breath before letting out a sigh.

"And then this kid decided to turn up on that bike, which he looks like he's not old enough to be legally allowed to drive - he thinks he's Batman or something, wants to run in there and help us catch the bad guy. I think our best bet is to find the suspect inside, and also detain the kid, take him back to his parents so he can get grounded for the next week or two." Montoya places her hand on the holster of her gun as she turns her body to face the building again. "So, Krause - what's our next move? Detain the kid first, or get the suspect in cuffs?"