Wayne of Gotham Read Online Free Page B

hell old do I look to you?” Bruce raged.
    â€œWe both know your age well enough, sir, and you will be yet another year older this coming February 19,” Alfred said with his nerves suddenly placed on ice.
    How long have I been running this mad race? Has it really been that long ?
    Bruce raised his head, the vertebrae in his neck cracking as he did. “I’m the president of the largest multinational corporation based in the United States, and you still talk to me like I’m wearing short pants. You would never have talked to my father this way.”
    The words fell between them.
    â€œYou are not your father, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.
    â€œSo you never fail to remind me,” Bruce replied, shaking his head as he stood upright and stretched. “I don’t suppose you have come this far below your station just to polish the brass?”
    â€œNo, sir,” Alfred responded in his best businessman tones. “As you so eloquently put it yourself, you are the head of the largest multinational corporation in the United States … although perhaps not for long.”
    Bruce stepped around the platform, drawing the fuel nozzle out of its cradle, the hose slinking along behind it toward the vehicle. Bruce touched the pattern on the surface of the car and the fuel cap enclosure opened where the surface had previously appeared seamless. “Is it the board of directors again? Are they singing that old song about ousting me?”
    â€œNo, sir … well, yes, sir, but this time the pressure is coming from the Securities and Exchange Commission,” Alfred pressed on. “You remember the scandal involving Tri-State Home and Hearth?”
    Bruce pushed the fuel nozzle into the opening and activated the pump. He leaned back against the side of the vehicle, feeling its malleable surface give slightly under his weight as he crossed his arms. “You would think that with all this power and a butler standing at hand, I wouldn’t have to pump my own gas, would you?”
    â€œSir, if you would please just concentrate for a few—”
    Bruce released the seals on his gloves and began pulling them off. “Yes, I remember Tri-State … it was the mortgage-holding division of our finance side. They were the ones who issued all those subprime loans. Carl Rising was the CEO, and together with his CFO, Ward Olivier, they approved that policy against our corporate directives.”
    Alfred raised an eyebrow.
    â€œI don’t just wear this cape, Alfred,” Bruce said, rubbing his eyes. The nozzle clicked and he pulled it from the car, sealing the opening again. He continued talking as he placed the fuel line back in place. “We cleaned up Tri-State and kept their doors open. I fired both Rising and Olivier and, as I recall, both of them are under federal indictment.”
    â€œYes, but the SEC isn’t satisfied with them,” Alfred said, nervously adjusting the cuffs of his tailored shirt, the onyx cuff links flashing even in the spare lights of the cave. “They’ve approached both Federal Trade and the Department of Justice to come after Wayne Enterprises under the Sherman Act.”
    â€œAntitrust?” Bruce chuckled. “Really?”
    â€œThey’re also talking about RICO, sir,” Alfred swallowed hard after pushing out the words.
    â€œRacketeering?” Bruce shook his head. “They can’t be serious.”
    â€œSir, they are looking for an excuse … ANY excuse … to take apart Wayne Enterprises.” Alfred reached up and tugged at his collar. “And with public sentiment running against big business and all the negative publicity that we’ve had about Tri-State—”
    â€œAlfred, that is your job,” Bruce said, reaching back into the vehicle. He pulled out the Scarface dummy, which still held the invitation card. “We all have a job to do. Yours is to be my public relations director and