The Joker's production was running smoother than ever, but trouble wasn't far behind.
First, a prop assistant fell off a ladder, dislocating his neck and landing in the hospital. Then, a major street scene requiring a busy New York road closure—already approved by the city—was canceled. The excuse? A recent trash can bombing incident, with the city citing safety concerns. To top it off, an assistant director was hit by a car on his way back to his hotel after work. He survived, but his femur was shattered.
For Martin, the first and third issues were minor headaches. The street closure, however, had to be resolved.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Meyers," Mayor Bloomberg said in person. "We can't risk any incidents, especially with a high-profile production like yours. If that bomber slipped through, the consequences would be unthinkable."
Martin shook his head. "We'll beef up our security and have the NYPD sweep for potential explosives in advance. I'm confident it'll be fine."
"No, we can't take that chance," Bloomberg insisted, unwavering.
Martin frowned, ready to subtly weave his magical influence over the stubborn mayor, when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
While Martin negotiated with Bloomberg upstairs, Gordon waited in the car below. His attention snagged on a man in his thirties riding a blue Ross bicycle along the street. The guy's posture was odd—knees inward, hips raised, one hand clutching a black duffel bag, head swiveling nervously, as if ready to bolt at any moment.
Then, Gordon watched as the man screeched to a halt in front of City Hall, swiftly tossing the bag into a trash can.
His instincts screamed. He grabbed his phone and called Martin. "Martin, something's off. I think I just spotted the bomber who's been stirring up New York."
"What?" Martin's voice sharpened. They'd just been discussing the "bomber" issue with the mayor, and now Gordon had a suspect?
"You sure?" Martin asked.
"Not certain, but you should get out of City Hall—now."
(Note: In 2008, New York faced a Times Square bombing. The author's shifted the location to City Hall for Martin's butterfly effect.)
Martin's mind raced. He leaned into the microphone, addressing Bloomberg. "Mayor, if we catch the bomber, can you lift the lockdown?"
"Uh, our police are working hard on the case," Bloomberg replied, confused.
Martin didn't explain. With a smile, he lowered his hand from the mic. "Gordon, grab him."
He'd already scanned the trash can with his magic—it was indeed a bomb. No risk of grabbing the wrong guy.
"Got it," Gordon replied, springing into action without hesitation.
Martin turned back to Bloomberg. "Mayor, call the NYPD and get their bomb squad ready. Also, we should head downstairs. It's not safe here."
An hour later, a still-dazed Bloomberg shook Martin's hand goodbye. Sitting in his office afterward, it took him a while to process.
So, the bomber causing havoc in New York was just... caught?
Was Martin's bodyguard that good, or were the police that incompetent?
Later, his office phone rang. It was the NYPD commissioner.
"Mayor, we've apprehended four of the bomber's accomplices and seized four explosives made from ammo crates, packed with black powder and timed detonators."
"Also, through interrogation, we learned the bomber was targeting you and Mr. Meyers for a big headline. Their original plan was Times Square."
Bloomberg pressed, "Who are these terrorists? Who's behind them? Iraq? Al-Qaeda?"
The commissioner's answer was awkward. "Neither. They're U.S. soldiers discharged from Iraq, resentful over the government's failure to provide jobs..."
Regardless, The Joker's filming issue was resolved. Gordon became the set's instant hero. Men wanted to grab drinks with him; women threw him flirty glances. He rebuffed them all.
"Gordon, you need to loosen up sometimes," Martin teased. "You're divorced, man."
"I'm your bodyguard," Gordon replied, stone-faced.
"Even bodyguards need a break. That young actress, Hannah Gross, has been dropping hints."
"Alright, your call," Martin said, chuckling. "But seriously, you're wound too tight. You'll age early."
"I get women. The paid kind."
"Uh, I meant—never mind," Martin said, giving up.
NBC: "Newsweek sparked controversy by using a photo of Republican VP candidate Sarah Palin as its cover. Republicans criticized the image for highlighting Palin's facial flaws, accusing the outlet of bias toward Democrats. GOP media advisor Andrea Tantaros slammed Newsweek for abandoning impartiality, noting their past photos of Obama were far more flattering..."
Media analyst Jeff Berkowitz wrote on his blog: "The message is clear: this is your beauty queen, a mature woman from the coldest state's hottest governor? When you see her fishtail wrinkles, heavy lashes, bloodshot eyes, and faint mustache... how much do you still like her?"
The New York Times: "Martin Meyers became a New York hero yesterday. While meeting Mayor Bloomberg at City Hall to discuss filming permits, the trash can bomber—behind recent city chaos—placed an explosive outside. Martin's bodyguard spotted the suspect, acted swiftly, and apprehended him. The bomb squad neutralized the device..."
New York commentator Andrew Brook: "Martin is Batman, his bodyguard Robin. But if a city needs Batman and Robin to save it, what's the point of our police?"