The Odyssey || 𝗕𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗪𝗮𝘆𝗻𝗲

Twelve | Origami

"Play back the recording."

Alfred did what he was told, tapping into Bruce's cowl com recording to play what he wanted to hear.

"Master Bruce!" The butler's voice was heard. This was the point at which she had him pinned.

If he could get a clear audio sample of her voice, then might be able to isolate the frequency and get a match.

But as usual, he was granted no such luck.

The time at which Bruce clearly heard her speak to him, telling him to stay away, the recording only played back an ominous static, followed by Alfred's voice again.

"Damn it." His fingers clenched at the desk as Alfred turned to look at him. He was unsure of how he should handle the situation. No matter what they tried, the only thing that would surface was a static in replacement of a voice.

"What do we do now, sir?" The older man inquired, looking upon the despondently thoughtful Bruce. His jaw was clenched and he was looking ahead at nothing. The way that his cowl was pulled back revealed the bruises beginning to form around his neck from the damage she'd done.

The damage.

A thought. Simple, a little harsh, but it would get him answers.

Bruce reached back and pulled the cowl over his head. "I'm going to talk to Gordon."

"Tonight? But sir, your injury—"

"The suspect should have a laceration along her right arm. We'll keep an eye out for that." He made his way over to his car.

Alfred wanted to continue to protest, hopefully get him to rest a little, but he figured there was little to no use. Bruce was extremely insistent on using the cover of night to his advantage—no matter what his condition was. Especially when it was a case involving someone he knew personally.

For Bruce, it was either Elizabeth, or it wasn't. She was either involved, or she wasn't. His paranoia was wracking his brain, he wanted to trust that maybe she wasn't a bad person, but he had to prove it.

As quick as possible.

Perhaps letting him solve this case would be good for him.

"Bring in...Elizabeth Jefferson...?" Gordon had to take a moment to stop smoking his cigarette. He was surprised.

"Most leads point to her, but I've been unable to pin them."

The older man, leaned against the balcony edge creased his brows. "No offense Batman, but I know Jefferson. I have for a long time." He sounded a hint defensive. "I don't think Elizabeth is capable of doing something like that."

Batman narrowed his eyes at the man. Gordon's gut was notorious for telling him someone was good, even when it was wrong. It was considerably nice that he had faith in someone he knew—their aforementioned history needed to be looked at—but faith was not something Bruce could have. He needed cold facts, stern evidence, he needed to be sure.

"Everyone has the capability to be a criminal."

"Is that what we're calling this Odyssey, now?" Jim tilted his head, taking his cigarette in once more. "A criminal? Because the only thing she's been doing is scaring the shit out of some bad people." He blew out some smoke. "Methods sound familiar?"

Perhaps he'd struck a nerve, and unintentionally so. He would apologize if he didn't feel so strongly about catching her. "This is bigger than her. Her reasoning is far beyond keeping criminals off the streets." He turned his back and stepped onto the ledge.