Downstairs, the thugs didn't react to the gunshots. They kept playing cards and talking amongst themselves. After all, their boss had fired his gun just a few minutes ago, supposedly killing the detective who came to negotiate. They figured he was just firing a few more rounds into the body to vent.
Upstairs, however, the situation couldn't have been more different. Killer Whale, who had been in complete control moments ago, was now the one with a gun to his head. The tables had turned with breathtaking speed.
"Alright, you bastard," Adam growled, yanking Killer Whale up by his collar. The dried blood on Adam's face made his glare even more menacing. "You're going to answer my questions now. Tell me about this assassination list. Who's on it, and what killers have been hired?"
But Killer Whale didn't have the sense to be afraid. He just grinned, a bloody, mocking smile. "Oh, look at you. Are you scared? Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't know anything. Besides, you should be more worried about my men downstairs. They could rush in at any moment. What are you going to do then?"
Rage flashed in Adam's eyes. He tossed one of his pistols to Gordon. "Cover the door," he ordered. Then, he slammed his fist into Killer Whale's face again and again, until the man's bravado finally broke. Adam grabbed him and smashed him against the wall, pinning him by the throat with his forearm.
"Don't play games with me," Adam snarled. "I wasn't afraid of Black Mask. You think a low-level thug like you scares me? I can kill you long before your men even get up the stairs."
As if to prove his point, Adam pulled another pistol from his belt. He'd come carrying four, partly to arm Gordon and partly to avoid having to reload in a firefight. He made a mental note: never carry this many guns again. The weight was brutal.
"Enjoy it while you can," Killer Whale spat, his voice choked with hatred. "If you weren't wearing that vest, you'd be a corpse on the floor. My mistake. I should have just put a bullet in your head."
Adam's temper flared. He drove a knee into the gangster's stomach, making him double over in pain. The man was right. The bulletproof vest had saved his life, but the sheer impact of the rounds had still cracked his ribs and made him cough up blood. It was that detail that had sold his act and completely fooled Killer Whale.
"You had your chance and you blew it," Adam said, his voice dangerously quiet. "That's the difference between you and Black Mask. He knows to always aim for the head. Now, you can stay silent, but I promise, you'll regret it."
Killer Whale gritted his teeth. He was in a bad spot. His only hope was to stall until his men realized something was wrong. "You don't get it," he began, trying to buy time. "Gotham has always been run by powerful people in the shadows. They control everything..."
Adam cut him off. "Spare me the history lesson. I know all that. Tell me something I don't know, or else..." He emphasized the point by pistol-whipping Killer Whale across the face.
The man grunted in pain, surprised that his stalling tactic had failed so easily. "Fine! The biggest gangs in Gotham are just puppets for the men behind the curtain!" he gasped. "We do what they allow. Most of the money we make goes straight to them, and in return, they protect us. This assassination fund is one of their projects. If you kill me, someone else will come for you. And the person running that fund is the most powerful man in Gotham..."
Just as he was about to say more, a voice called up from downstairs.
"Boss? You need us to come up and clean up the mess? It's starting to smell like blood down here."
Adam and Gordon exchanged a worried glance. The clock was ticking. Barbara frantically began gathering stray bullets from a nearby table while Gordon tried to drag a heavy cabinet in front of the door.
Killer Whale saw his chance and started smirking again.
"What's going on up there?" the gangster downstairs yelled. After a long moment of silence, he said to his friends, "Something's not right. Let's go check it out."
The heavy thud of boots on the stairs grew louder, closer. The final confrontation was coming.
"You can't escape," Killer Whale said, his confidence returning. "There are thousands of people in this slum who won't help you, and my men are on their way up. You're trapped. Why don't we make a deal? We all walk away from this."
On the other side of Gotham, in the quiet of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne was tending to his own wounds. He was stitching up a shallow knife cut on his waist from the previous night's patrol. It was a familiar routine. Every night left him with new bruises and cuts; his armor was often damaged beyond immediate repair.
But he never thought of stopping. After cleaning the wound, he was about to get dressed and step into his role as Gotham's billionaire playboy when a news report on the television caught his attention.
"This is a Gotham TV breaking news report. We've just learned that respected Police Commissioner James Gordon was kidnapped during this morning's riots. His condition is unknown. In a related development, acting director of the Arkham Branch, Adam, has reportedly gone into the slums alone to negotiate. We will continue to track this developing story..."