The woman left two of her people to dispose of the cars and the father's body. She rode in the black SUV with the others and the boy and watched with dispassionate interest as the full effects of the injection made themselves known. The boy slumped over, breath shallow, eyes glazed. No more difficulty from that quarter.
Sodium lithium boron silicate hydroxide with fluorine, more vulgarly known as kryptonite.
As she had been told, it didn't take very much. The majority of the solution was still in the vial, glowing faintly green in the dim light.
"Faster," she ordered the man driving. Her jaw ached where the father had managed to land a blow, but the pain was tolerable.
That scene had been a mistake - the only one of the day, caused by factors beyond her control. Perhaps it was just as well. Removing the boy from the friend's house could have proven to be much more difficult than staging a traffic stop at the last second.
She was pleased with herself and her people for adapting so efficiently to the changing circumstances. And they'd held to the timetable despite all the obstacles.
They would be gone from Metropolis airspace within thirty minutes, precisely according to the plan. Although she would be overseas, completing a last few arrangements, and not part of the next stage, she knew it would go equally smoothly: She had chosen six men with impeccable credentials to staff the safehouse, and it was the perfect location to hold the boy.
No one, after all, would expect the League of Shadows to seek refuge in Gotham. And what elegant revenge against Bruce Wayne, the so-called "Batman" – hiding their ultimate weapon in his precious city. A gratifying equation all around. Balanced. Conclusive.
She sat back and folded her hands in her lap, smiling to herself.
Talia al Ghul was having one of those days where everything went exactly right.
--end--
