The Shootist.

The Law Of The Old West Comes To Gotham City.

My name is Daniel Boyce. But people who know me on the streets call me Desert Dan. Which I somewhat understand. Mostly because I grew up outside of Menan, Idaho which is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I passed the times during the summer on my grandpa's ranch practicing my shooting with revolvers, pistols and rifles of old. I spent so much time practicing in between fence repairs or water changes that I got to the point that I didn't have to look at what I was shooting at.
When I graduated high school I was three time county shooting champion and five time state rifle marksman champion. I went into law enforcement more less as a last attempt at helping people. But I quickly learned that the system was corrupt. Myself and a handful of good clean cops tried to stand up against the corruption in the police force but failed. So I opened a blacksmith shop and started specializing in making and improving rifles and revolvers. And even adopted an after hours persona of The Shootist. An old west gunslinger who always wore gloves, a long black with brown lining duster trench coat, a black felt cowboy hat and a Henry lever action repeater rifle and a pair of ivory handled revolvers.
The papers got wind of how I shot a man in the hip for trying to rob a group of teen girls. I became both the most hated man in my county and the most beloved local folk hero.
But I soon got tired of the quickly shrinking crime pool and decided to make a big move. To Gotham City. I opened a gunsmith shop and got an apartment first and I found out that around Gotham I was rather popular up here.
I would see kids dressed as me in Shootist style garb shooting pop guns . I smiled as I enjoyed making kids believe that they could be oh so much more than where they come from.
I've been living in Gotham for close to two years now. I haven't made my presence felt yet. But tonight if there's a big crime or some big villain comes on the news. You can bet your ass that I'll make sure everyone knows my name by the end of the night.

I was to meet with Comissioner James Gordon to set up a contract to fix, repair, improve or make specialized revolvers and rifles. I was heading to a local diner for my meeting and as I was walking to the diner I noticed that a bank robbery was going down. So I ran down an alley and put my bandana on over my face and approached a man with a gun watching the back door. "Excuse me?" He looked at me and pulled a gun. "Whoa. Easy. I'm just wondering if you got a light?" I patted my jacket like I was looking for a cigar or something. Once he turned away for a second I slipped on a sleeper hold and held his nose and mouth closed. He passed out in mere seconds. I traded clothes with him and walked in once the hat was perfectly low over my face.
"What are you doing in here?" Said one of four other robbers. "Your supposed to be watching the exit." I nodded up and down in understanding keeping the hat low over my face. And once I had a perfect picture of the lay out I returned outside and went to the briefcase I had a couple of samples of my repair work in and tapped on the outer shell. Causing the bottom to pop out. I pulled it off and pull a holster and an ivory handled colt revolver. I loaded six rounds into it and holstered the revolver and put the hoslter on high on my waist so it was hidden. Once it was ready. I pulled my bandana back up and unzipped the jacket until I was able to get to my holster in a hurry. Once I was sure I could reach my gun. I buttoned up the jacket. Then Re entered the bank where the four robbers were all together with their automatic rifles aimed at the crowd. "What is it this time?" The leader asked. I shrugged and all four looked at each other and scoffed. Which gave me the perfect opprotunity to pull my gun and shoot three in the chest center mass and the fourth in the shoulder. I approached him and dropped the automatic rifle I took off the unconscious robber and he looked at me with fear and asked, "Who are you?"
"I have gone by many names. But the one you might know me by is the Shootist. I better not see you or your associates in my city again." I cocked the hammer back. "Because if I even smell you. I'll finish the job. " He nodded frantically. I turned around and asked, "Everyone alright?" Everyone of the civilians smiled and said yes. "Good." I felt the fourth one going for a knife and without looking I cocked the hammer and drilled him in the head. "Have a nice day folks."  I ran out of the bank and returned the robbers clothes and put mine back on and took of my bandana off and folded it before putting it in my back pocket. As for my holster and gun I returned them to inside the briefcase' hidden compartment then headed to my meeting.

I walked into the diner and Comissioner Gordon stood up. "Hey, Mr. Boyce over here." I approached him and shook his hand then put my briefcase on the table.
"I'm glad your inquiring about my services Comissioner."
"Yeah. All my inquiries have told me that your the best. And you pay attention to detail."
"They would be generous. I am a stickler for tradition and the intricate details on my work." I opened the briefcase normally and pulled my favorite masterpieces. Gordon picked them up one at a time and was amazed at how intricate the engravings were on the revolvers. He read the names on the butts of the guns.
"Desert Flower. And Hawks Call." He smiled and I knew just from that I had a client. Or at least I was hoping. "I have a test for you Mr. Boyce. Can you make a special revolver. It's for my daughters birthday coming up."
"Absolutely." I pulled a catalogue and handed it to him. "Choose please."
He flipped through the catalogue for barely a couple seconds before he pointed to one. I looked at what he chose and it was my 'Guardian Angel' design.
"Okay. It'll be ready by Thursday afternoon." He grinned. "Anything special you want engraved on the but or barrel?"
He took out a piece of paper and started writing something. "This is her favorite quote." He passed it to me.
"She's a Churchill girl. I'm impressed."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Gordon asked.
"It means that she loves history. Winston Churchill to be even more specific. So I'm glad to know that the old auritors of the past don't go silently into that goodnight around here." I explained.
"Ohh, so you like the classics as well?" I nodded. "Well, that's good."
"If I may ask, how old is your daughter?"
"She'll be twenty eight this weekend."
"Well, if you'll allow me the honor. I can present the revolver to your daughter?"
"You know what, that isn't a half bad idea." He smiled. Then his phone buzzed and he looked at it and after a second, "God damn it. That Shootist was seen again. This time at a bank robbery. Which he stopped but killed four of the five robbers."
"Well, it sounds like you have a lot of business to deal with Comissioner Gordon. So I'll go back to my shop and start on that special order."
"Oh, before you go." He pulled his wallet.
'"My policy is that I get paid if the customer likes my work upon delivery."
"Ohh, well. Then how about this. If me and my daughter like the revolver your making. Not only will I pay you what you ask for for making it. But I'll see to it that you get a contract with GCPD."
"Thank you Comissioner. Now I best be going and starting on that order of yours." I stood up and put the revolvers back in the briefcase before heading home to my shop as he headed to the bank scene. On the way home I ran into a girl with long orange/red hair and rather ocean green eyes.
"Oh, sorry." She said.
"No, it's my...fault." I said as I was brushing myself off from bing knocked to the ground. I stopped once I looked into her eyes. She looked so beautiful. That after a minute or two I snapped back to reality and noticed she was smiling and blushing. "Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean to stare." I was embarassed. And she giggled.
"It's okay. Your not the first man to stare at me. Besides. I can't put my finger on it but it didn't feel all that strange or weird or creepy." I extended my hand and she took it.
"Daniel Boyce."
"Barbara Gordon." She replied.
"Your Comissioner Gordons daughter aren't you?"
"Yes, I am."
"Well, I just left him at the diner. We had a meeting this morning but a call came up about a crime being stopped by someone called the Shootist."
"Oh boy. That means that dads going to be grumpy when he gets home tonight."
"Well, I best be off Miss. Gordon."
"Okay. Hope to see you around."
"Same here. Well hope to see you around too." I smiled as she giggled. I soon continued on my way and she did the same.