Jul. 26th, 2011

marriedtogotham: (Handships/scrutinize)
Four of them, Wurtz was one, Jim could see that much, Bell, Gugiano, and Newman, the new kid. Great. Jim had gotten a text from Batman ten minutes ago, something about Harvey being pulled over, which was strange, they both new Harvey was every bit the law abiding citizens, and sure he's been pulled over, but it had to be bad if the young blond had to message Batman.
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      Bad didn't even begin to describe how Jim saw this. All officers that Harvey had investigated in IA, except the new kid, who was just following leads now, probably under Wurtz.

      Wonderful, Jim thought as he stepped out of his car, in a newer gray suit, blue tie, trench over his back to shelter out of the rain today. Hands on his hips he approached the scene, behind Wurtz, who was saying something to the young lawyer through a half rolled down window. The other four just froze at the sight of Gordon.

      "There a problem here? I'm sure the counselor would like to get home. Just as the rest of you would." He nodded in a generalized fashion, giving them all a chance to leave now before he escalated this later, even so much as letting Dent press charges if need be.
      Harvey Dent
      The rest of the cops saw Jim first and their body language changed immediately, from focused and clearly predatory to restless, and looking anywhere but at Gordon.

      Wurtz was mid-sentence, leaning in Harvey's window when he heard Jim speak and straightened up, pocketing something as he did.

      "Problem?" he shrugged, hands in his pockets. "No problem here. We was just congratulating Harv here on his campaign so far. Amazing, isn't it?"

      The gun on Wurtz's hip, nearly hidden under his voluminous stomach, was still in the unfastened holster, but the safety was off, and the hammer drawn back.

      Behind them, the trunk of Wurtz's patrol car closed very quietly, as something was moved, put in, or taken out by the new kid and Bell.

      Jim Gordon
      ‎"That right?" he asked, keeping his distance, own hand on his, hear his shoulder holstered gun, which wasn't locked down either. Jim didn't get this far in his career for being stupid. "Well, I think you've all had a chance, plenty of time to get your... congratulations in. I think it's time you let Dent get home. He's a busy man."

      Looking up toward the others by the car; "That goes for the rest of you," he had that look, over the rim of his glasses, and if anyone /dared/ defy him now they were going to greatly regret it later. Not only was it just Jim, but Batman /was/ on his way. Jim had just been closer.

      Harvey Dent
      Harvey, meanwhile was /glaring/ at his dashboard, biting the inside of his cheek. That car behind him had a patrol camera on the dash, and he knew it. The second he escalated things or threw the first punch, that footage would end up of GCN before he followed through.

      The tension in the air between the now six men was palpable. Jim was the boss, but the four cops had come with their ire up, expecting a fight, and in the most primal parts of their brains, it was still two against four.

      Wurtz shifted his expression from thinly veiled aggression to a twisted sort of camraderie first when he spoke.

      "Of course he is, we wouldn't want him to keep Mr. ... uh, Wayne waiting. That'd be a damn shame. But we just got one more thing, Jim. It'll take a minute and it's awful ... sentimental. Brian!" He called to the officer named Bell near the back of the patrol car.

      "You know what? Harv's present? Bring it over here anyway. It's okay, Jim can know ... can't you, Jim?"


      Jim Gordon
      Luckily there were patrol cameras on the cars, which would make the case against the four here easy. Especially since Jim also had the phone from Batman on record, as he was instructed to do.

      Jim watched Wurtz and then the others carefully, hand now on the inside of his jacket, ready to pull his gun if he had to. "If any of you want to keep your jobs, I suggest you keep whatever it is and get the hell out of here. As it is you're all out of code of conduct and /on/ the job, no less. I'd hate to lose a few good cops over something a /low/ as harassing a DA candidate. Think it over /wisely/," he shouted, so that they could all here him. He stepped in closer to Wurtz, fire ablaze behind his crystal blue eyes.

      "That's double for you; think it through before you act. You'll do more damage to yourself than him. Don't be stupid."

      Harvey Dent
      Harvey's eyes fickered to the gun Jim had his hand on, half of him smiled inside, starting to like the mustached cop, while the other half of him just said in a very low voice, "Jim ... not worth it..."

      He didn't need Jim of all people getting hauled over the coals for a shoot out on his behalf.

      The other three cops backed off, nodding and keeping their hands exactly where Jim could see them as they avoided eye contact. They knew when Jim was drawing a line, and they knew who Jim's partner was, too.

      Wurtz, however, didn't seem ready to back off. He knew that he could still at least send a message to Dent, and maybe get paid part of what he would if they'd been able to complete the job for it.

      "Jim," Wurtz laughed, walking back to the car to go to the trunk himself since Bell was too chicken shit. "Jim, harassing? You know that Harry was my partner. Twenty years, and Harry was Harv's old man. Harv's like a ... like a nephew to me, and I just wanted to wish him well, there's no harassing here."

      He pulled something out of the trunk, a tarp and some garbage bags rustling as he did. Wurtz walked back to the car, as friendly as ever with an old, but very solid looking wooden baseball bat with leather wrapped around the handle.

      "This is all," Wurtz showed it to Jim as he passed. "Used to belong to Harv's dad, didn't it, Harv? You can tell it's the same one, can't you? From-" he walked to the driver's side window and pointed to a part of the bat near the end where there was actually a piece of wood missing from the bat hitting something solid, and hitting it hard enough to break it, "the dent. Remember? That was the joke? Anyway here-"

      He tried to hand the bat to Harvey, who was /pale/ with rage. The blond looked ready to snap, ready to pry his own fingers off of the steering wheel and wrap them around Wurtz's fat neck. When the lawyer didn't take the gift, he just tossed it into the passenger seat with him.

      "For the memories Harv. Good luck."

      Jim Gordon
      Jim knew who Harry Dent was, he avoided the asshole like the plague back when he was transferred to Gotham from Chicago. Everyone knew Harry Dent. Crazy son of a bitch, beat his wife, hit his kid. It was one reason that Jim was so fond of Harvey, knowing he grew up around that piece of shit cop, every day beaten... Took a real hardened soul do what the blond was doing now.

      The older man would be damned if Wurtz and his goons were going to ruin it now. Everything had been recorded from two police cameras, and the phone still going in Jim's pocket.

      "The three of you, get in my car. And don't move. We're having words in a minute," he shouted over to them, motioning them away from Wurtz vehicle to his own.

      A slight breeze crept up behind Jim, and he knew. Dusk had set in, casting odd shadows from the buildings, perfect timing for the man of the night. Wurtz's car trunk opened without Wurtz being near it, and a dark shadow pulled out trash bags, duct tapes, and few other items that could address what Wurtz and the rest had really come here to do. He couldn't prove it on this alone, especially if Wurtz denied it, but he saw the Bat take a few pics, and if the other three in the car spilled? They would get rewarded and he'd have everything he needed to get the dirty cop out of the PD for good.

      He stood by the driver side of Harv's car and watched as Batman slid in behind Wurtz, like shadow, a ghost, and wrapped his arms around the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

      Crouching, Jim looked away from where Batman had been, he didn't need to know and he trusted Batman to only go so far. Jim looked at Harvey with concerned, almost gray looking eyes now. "You okay, Harvey?"

      Harvey Dent
      Angry didn't begin to describe what Dent was feeling.

      He stared at the baseball bat beside him, hands in tight fists, trying to resist grabbing it and getting out of the car to beat Wurtz with it instead. He could see it so clearly in his mind: the way Wurtz's face would look as Harvey beat the features of it into a pulp, the sound of him screaming through a collapsed windpipe and the lazy jerk his body would give when a broken rib slit his lung open and let him die.

      /We're not a good boy, Harv. We're done being good, aren't we? Good boys get baseball bats broken over them, Harv! We're not good anymore!/
      Hearing his name, Harvey breathed for the first time in minutes and grabbed the bat with one hand, getting out of the car, slamming the door and walking straight past Jim, eyes blind with rage as he stormed across the street to the pier and threw the bat into the harbor as hard and as far as he could, removing the temptation from himself before he covered his face with both hands and breathed for a moment, in and out, in and out, unable to do anything else.

      /Damn it, Harv. We could have made him feel it instead./

      "No," Harvey said aloud, "no. It's wrong." He raked his hands through his hair, frowning deeply, as he whispered to himself and paced "... it's wrong."

      Jim Gordon
      ‎"Harvey," he called as the blond walked by him. He took a few steps but just watched, knowing he the kid needed his space. That was a tough deal, and it was just the beginning and only Tuesday. Five days left, thought. Just five.

      Jim sauntered back to his car, hands on his hips, as he stared at the three piled into the back of his patrol car, and when he saw Harvey throw the bat, he pointed at the them and walked off toward the blond again.

      "I really do suggest an escort to and from places the rest of the week," he urged quietly.

      Harvey Dent
      ‎"Yeah ..." Harvey passed a hand over his face and took a deep breath, trying to gather himself ... so to speak.

      "Yeah, I think I can manage one," his voice was low and rough, shoulders rising and falling quickly as he breathed, hands on his hips, pacing.

      The three officers in the back of the car caught Dent's eye, and with a glare, he marched towards them, wrenching the door open and leaning in, fuming at them.

      "I may not be in the office now, but I'm going to be DA in about five days-" he seethed, eyes going nearly black as he stared the shaken men down, "and if you thought I made your lives /hell/ when I was in IA, you've got another fucking thing coming after this!
      Jim Gordon Jim went right after Dent, letting him get his steam out first and then he tugged him back by the shoulder. "Stop," he hissed, pulling him away from the car. "This won't help you right now. What you need to do is go /home/ and stay there the rest of the night while I sort this out. When you're DA then we can talk. Until then..." Jim sighed, exasperated, "Keep your ass safe."

      Harvey Dent
      Harvey's jaw stayed clenched as he looked at Jim, breathing harshy through his nose as his eyes glittered darkly. It wasnt Harvey, not exactly, not tonight, and he shook his shoulder free, but didn't lash out.

      "Fine," Tyler fumed, speaking to the first person besides Bruce since he'd shaken down mobsters in alleys for Bruce's whereabouts way, way back when. There was something about the cop that he was starting ... not to hate on sight, anyway.

      He locked his chilling gaze on the men in the car.

      "Tell them if they come after Harvey Dent again, they'd better bring something bigger than a fucking baseball bat. That, or enough garbage bags for /all/ of them."

      He turned on his heel after holding their gazes, and walked back to Harvey's car, letting the lawyer settle back in as he got behind the wheel. If Tyler drove, they'd end up somewhere Harvey would just regret later anyhow.

      "Jim?" Harvey called from his car, looking a little more like himself.

      "Thank you. Sure you don't want me to stay?"

      Jim Gordon Jim just sort of gave Harvey a look, head tilted just slightly as he listened. He was angry, of course, Jim was angry too. One of them had to have a level head here; Jim had more practice.

      As he slid one leg into his car, he waved the lawyer off. "I'll be fine. Get home and stay safe. I'll call and check on you tomorrow."

      Harvey Dent
      ‎"Sure," Harvey sighed, rolling his window up and driving away, taking a few deep breaths as he made it onto the freeway. Now he had Jim checking in on him, great. Jim had more than enough on his plate without having to babysit him, too. Mind you, Tyler or no, if Jim hadn't shown up when he did, it was very possible the garbage bags full of Harvey's weighted down body parts would have hit the water right about now.

      If only for Bruce's sake, Harvey started to admit that maybe he needed a little help until election night. The blond might be more than ready to die for his ideals, but he was not willing to put Bruce through the sort of grief he'd suffered seven and a half years ago.

      It was only when he pulled into the secure parkade at the penthouse that Harvey wondered where Wurtz had been ... and in the same breath, knew the answer.

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James Worthington Gordon

July 2011

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