Chapter 371: Doing Business!
The Interrogation at GCPD
At the Gotham City Police Department, Luke yawned in boredom as he watched the officers move about. The air quality in this dump was terrible, a mix of sweat, body odor, foot odor, and hot coffee—a deep breath could make a person lightheaded.
The only thing that kept him engaged was the receptionist at the door. Alas, this was Jim Gordon's territory, and he couldn't possibly sleep with the Commissioner's daughter one night and then turn around and flirt with another girl the next; that would be too much of a scumbag move.
After three consecutive yawns, Luke was finally invited into the Commissioner's office.
There were two other people in the room: Jacob Aishi and Moussa Quinn, senior FBI agents in charge of the robbery case.
"You two are here?" Luke asked, feigning surprise. "What, the FBI has lowered its standards to cooperate with local police? Your Director wouldn't be happy about this."
Jacob and Moussa exchanged glances. Moussa said sternly,
"Mr. Shaw, please return the power armor you recovered at Wayne Manor to us. The White House has already paid for them."
"No problem, but..." Luke's tone shifted, and he smiled. "Those suits were quite damaged and can't be used without repair. Tesla is a company focused on after-sales service, and we always provide the most satisfactory service to our customers. Just wait a few days. Once the armor is fixed, I will personally deliver them to your door. I guarantee no foolish bastard will dare to hijack the goods this time."
His words were laced with sarcasm, subtly mocking the FBI's incompetence for leading to the current complex situation. Moussa's face darkened, and his voice dropped.
"How many days will that take?"
Luke flicked dirt from under his fingernails and said carelessly, "A month if slow, half a month if fast."
Half a month! The trail would be stone cold by then.
Moussa was about to speak, but his partner shook his head at him. Luke Shaw was no ordinary arms dealer; he had unusual connections across the criminal, legitimate business, political, and military worlds. Such a powerful figure was not one a senior agent could interrogate.
"Mr. Shaw, we'll leave the power armor in your capable hands. Please accelerate the process as much as possible. Additionally, there is one other matter we'd like your assistance with." He turned his gaze to Jim Gordon.
"Commissioner Gordon, please go ahead."
Jim Gordon stared at Luke with ill-concealed displeasure. The thought of Luke's involvement with his daughter made him deeply uncomfortable, yet he was forced to endure it.
"According to the intelligence gathered at Wayne Manor, Mr. Shaw seems to have a way to remotely disable the power armor."
"That's correct." Luke nodded, then asked, "What do you want to know?"
Jim took a deep breath.
"If possible, I hope you can disclose that method. The power armor is extremely powerful, and the police are no match for it. We need this information."
"I'm sorry, I cannot fulfill your request."
"You can name your conditions. Any conditions."
Luke smiled and shook his head.
"Commissioner Gordon, this isn't a matter of conditions; it's genuinely impossible."
"The MAX Power Armor is not ordinary civilian equipment; it's a super-armor specially designed by Tesla for government departments to counter special enemies. The armor is extremely destructive, and if it falls into the wrong hands, it would have severe consequences. Therefore, to prevent unexpected events, I deliberately added a backdoor to the core program. The method for using this backdoor is detailed in the agreement, which I'm sure you two have heard about." He glanced at Jacob and Moussa.
He continued, "Of course, the control method for the backdoor cannot be activated by just anyone. Only a select few have this authority, such as the FBI Director, the Secretary of Defense, the Deputy Secretary, the President, the Vice President, the Director of the DEO, and so on. Ordinary people do not have that clearance."
Commissioner Gordon remained silent, profoundly skeptical of Luke's words.
Luke continued, "Actually, there's another solution. There are a total of three hundred MAX Power Armor suits, two hundred of which have already been delivered. Commissioner Gordon can apply to the White House to define this as a special incident, asking the FBI to deploy their agents in power armor to fight the Court of Owls. Wouldn't that kill two birds with one stone?"
Moussa sneered, "Mr. Shaw is quite ambitious. The FBI is responsible for criminal cases in all fifty states. Where would we find that many personnel?"
"Then there's nothing I can do." Luke spread his hands, feigning innocence. "If you don't have enough manpower, what do you expect me to do? You can't possibly expect me to go to the frontline and fight these criminals, can you?"
He amused himself with the thought.
The joyful laughter echoed in the room like a solitary performance in a circus, creating an awkward atmosphere. Luke stopped smiling and continued,
"Commissioner Gordon, I'm going to ask you a serious question: What do you think of the power armor's performance?"
Jim Gordon frowned slightly. "What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing special. I just want to do some business."
Luke lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "If you are interested, Tesla can produce a batch of specialized Police Armor for the Gotham City Police Department. While the performance certainly won't match the MAX, I guarantee it won't be far off."
Jacob's expression changed drastically, and he shouted fiercely,
"Luke Shaw, are you insane? Do you know what you are doing?"
Luke gave him a cold look, the chill in his eyes startling.
"Doing business. What else? What, you forbid it?"
Jacob's body stiffened, and a profound sense of fear suddenly welled up in him. His lips trembled, unable to utter a single word.
Luke snorted and continued, "Tesla is not a state-owned enterprise. No law mandates that its products can only serve the U.S. government. Don't forget, the Gotham City Police are also a government department. I'm providing them with equipment to help maintain public order. This has nothing to do with you guys."
With that, he took out a purple, gold-rimmed card and placed it on the desk.
"Feel free to consider this carefully. If you're interested, call the number on the card. For her sake, I'll offer the maximum discount."
Jim Gordon knew the 'her' Luke referred to was his daughter, Barbara. This irritated him immensely, but the thought of the change the armor could bring was tempting.
Gotham was the city with the highest crime rate in the U.S., and also the city with the highest police casualty rate. Nearly a hundred officers died in the line of duty every year—a horrifying number. If the police were protected by power armor, the casualty rate would significantly improve, and they wouldn't have to be timid when confronting gangs.
Considering all the benefits, Jim Gordon's gaze grew contemplative.
Perhaps I should give it a try.
Jacob and Moussa exchanged worried looks. Moussa quickly interjected,
"Do not believe anything Luke Shaw says! Power armor is unlike ordinary weaponry. If the police are equipped with it, the gangs will go to extreme lengths to acquire it as well. This is the beginning of a vicious cycle. International arms dealers use this exact method to profit handsomely. How can you fall for his trap?"
Jim Gordon coughed.
"The affairs of Gotham are not for you two to worry about. Let's return to the previous topic: the Court of Owls' power armor was hijacked from your custody. It is only right and proper that you offer assistance."
"If you refuse, we will no longer hand over any MAX Power Armor suits that we recover in the future."
Jacob was speechless.
Moussa was speechless.
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