Sorry once again for the wait, I've been short of time because of training. Here's the next chapter and please enjoy. Next chapter will have Bruce and Harley bits. It takes time and I refuse to rush the story because of it.

Oh and to whoever reviewed one of my stories awhile back talking about how I have no talent because I put French and Afrikaner words into my story, Fuck off and get an account so you can show me your writing abilities if your so good.

~Dresner

Undisclosed Location: 0101 Hours

"Do you remember?" Konev asked the battered and beaten Bruce Wayne who was bound to a steel chair in chains with a shock collar around his neck. "Who you are? What you were meant to do?"

Bruce sat still as he could as the Russian circles him. For over a month Bruce was put under forms of torture not seen since the days of the Bolsheviks Checka, Stalin's NKVD, or the latest acts of brutality by the American CIA, both physical and mental. Bruce Wayne trained himself to restraint multiple forms of torture and truth serums, but Konev's forms of torture were becoming more intense and differed every day, never using the same technique twice. His body was cut, bruised, battered, and broken from the torture. Broken ribs and arm only barley treated by a medic, smashed fingers and toes, missing teeth either punched or ripped out with pliers, cigar and cigarette burns litter his body, and cuts from knives cover his face and neck.

But his mind would not break...

"Bruce?" He asks Bruce as he circles him. "Are you there? Or have you given up on me and our organization?"

"Go. To. Hell." Bruce bellows, spewing blood out of his battered face and busted lips.

Konev strikes him with a swift round house kick to the jaw. Bruce is thrown to the floor in a puddle of his own blood and water. Konev picks him up and asks him again.

"Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" Bruce asks his interrogator.

"DO YOU REMEMBER WHY HE CAME TO GOTHAM?!" Konev explodes. "YOU KNOW WHY BECAUSE YOUR SATELLITES MONITOR EVERY ONE OF YOUR ENEMIES AND ALLIES!"

"I don't know why he came to Gotham." Bruce replies.

"Don't lie to me Bruce." Konev tells him, closing in on him until they were face to face. "I've seen your files on him, on everyone you have encounter in your life as Batman. We've always had a mole in your network, Jason Todd, and he feed us all the information we needed. But some of the files he could not get a hold of so easily. Tell me what I want to know and I will call all of this mess off. Tell me why the Hunter came to Gotham. What is his motivation?"

The slamming of a prison door broke his focus as his ally and boss, Amanda Waller, escorted by his own GRU Spetsnaz Paratroopers at her side. "Konev." She says with disgust. "Back away from Wayne. It's time for another treatment. The Subjects require it."

The GRU soldiers look to their commander for approval to which he casts a jaundice eye to the wild boar like figure of Amanda Waller and then to the defeated Bruce Wayne. The experiments and torture sickened him as they drew on to their second month. Why does she need him again? But he remembers his mission and reluctantly gives the go ahead to his soliders to drag the Dark Knight to the surgeons table once more.

Waller watches with a cold glare as the tan uniform clad soliders dragged her most formidable foe to the R&D department in the lower levels of the base.

As the soliders disappeared into the darkness, Waller drew her attention to the GRU Major.

"Why are you here?" Waller asks him bluntly. "Your part in the project is nearing its conclusion and your men have yet to provide the results I want."

"GRU has their reasons for sending me and my Soldiers to your country." Konev replies in a cold and calculating tone. "Mother Russia demands Karl Dael's head for slaughtering her troops in Ukraine. The blood of my comrades are on his hands and Moscow demands his capture."

"Nationalism." Waller scoffs. "A petty and archaic concept. Another divide between our nations. Russia has nothing to be proud of, after all it was your Motherland that lost the Cold War. America's set back in Ukraine we're not the cause of this man because our attention is directed toward a threat to not only the national security of the United States, but the world itself."

"Another excuse by a fading world power." Konev retorts. "Just like Rome you will be crushed under the weight of your own decadence. We know your country is in the middle of a crushing depression and your imperialist wars are draining your ever dwindling resources. The Soviet Union may have lost the Cold War, but the Federation will out last your United States regardless of whatever fictional enemy you have created."

Waller simply laughs off Konev remarks, no matter how right he was. Waller knew of the corruption with in the Russian Government as well as her own Government. Her words were simply the tired rhetoric of the Cold War Warriors of the Department of Defense, the Progressive Elite, and the 60's retreads of the Second Clinton administration. She could careless about the Government or its ideals, what mattered to her was to protect the country and not its government, Like the true Patriot she was.

Konev held back his anger from unleashing itself on Waller for insulting his beloved Motherland. The Grach pistol on his side began to feel heavy in its holster, but he couldn't let his pride get in the way of his mission.

"Tell me about Wayne." Konev demands, changing the subject. "Wayne broke contact with Dael before the Arkham Knight Insurrection. Why is he here?"

"Would you prefer for me to explain?" She smirks smugly, "Or would you prefer for me to show you when our guests arrive from the Capital?"

Washington D.C:

Karl took the wheel from Ricky as gun fire and screeching tires broke the silence of the streets of Washington D.C as the large Lincoln car screamed through the streets.

"I need more bullets Ricky!" Harley shouted as her MAC-10 clicked instead of banged.

Ricky ripped open the seat with a combat knife revealing a stash of magazines for her MAC and his compact M4A1 assault rifle. She loaded another magazine as bullets zipped pasted their heads and ripped through the car.

"Engine block! Engine block!" Karl shouted as heavily armored G63 Mercedes trucks rammed the large car. Ricky and Harley returned fire as best as they could as the car surfs through the streets and toward the Jefferson memorial. Crossing the Potomac river they could see the memorial racing closer to them. The G63's began to fall behind the tank like Lincoln. Harley and Ricky continued to fire wildly out the shattered windows of the car until the lights of the truck disappeared behind them.

"They're backing off Boss!" Ricky shouted with glee as he loaded another magazine into his Carbine. Harley cheered briefly until another set of lights blinded the car as the sight of a helicopter took their attention away from another G63 in the other lane. The G63 side swiped the car and sent it spinning out into a small patch of trees near the Jefferson memorial. The car flew through the woods bouncing against the trees like a basket ball until rolling on its roof in the middle of the great field in front of the memorial.

All was black for her...

The crash left her laying on the roof of the upside down car covered in blood from the hail storm of glass and wood flying into the car as it rolled. She ran her hand through her hair only to feel her once beautifully golden hair drenched in blood and glass. More blood rains down upon her as the sight of Ricky's body impaled to the seat with a large tree branch.

"Ricky..." She whispers silently to herself mournfully. Ricky was once apart of her gang in Arkham City, a rather obscure kid from the rest of the thugs and murders in her group. But what really made him stand out was how he cared for her and she always remembered that.

Lights flooded the area in and around the car as six G63's with .50 Caliber machine guns and heavily armed troops circled the car. Harley looked outside of the car to see Karl being restrained and beaten by more of those Russians they encountered at the farm.

A chopper hovered above them, but unlike the soliders brandishing high tech Russian arms, this chopper was American...

Karl looks passed the blood in his eyes to see the American Chopper landing close to them. The Chopper is a UH-60, the ubiquitous blackhawk of the US Military, with no markings. The chopper touched down and with in seconds he was drug to the feet of a large figure clad in Orange and black body armor.

"Slade..." Harley whisper to herself until she was dragged kicking and screaming from out of the car.

"I never expected to see you working with my student." Slade remarks as the Russians threw her to his feet.

"Fuck you Grandpa!" She shouted in defiance.

Slade's hand rose into the air to strike Harley, but a effeminate hand latches onto his wrist and holds it back.

"No." A calm and cold voice. "We need the both of them to complete the project."

A figure, a female, could be seen behind Slade's shadow. She was Harley's height and body type, but her motions and body language spoke the tongue of Batman.

"Claudia?" Karl asked the figure behind his teacher.

The Woman threw a knife into Karl's stomach in response as he growled in pain. A light chuckle erupted from Slade's right as a large muscular man stepped into the light. He was blonde with blue eyes, like Harley's, and strongly resembled Bruce Wayne.

"Don't be such a Sour Kraut!" The man chuckled.

"Bruce?" Harley asks the sadistic man.

"Close." The man replies as the woman steps into the light. Raven black hair complimented her dark eyes along with her cold expression and it left Harley nearly speechless.

"But no cigar."

"You!..." Harley gasps in astonishment. "You look just like me!"

Deathstroke stomps her in the face, shutting her up before Harley could reply. Karl nearly blacks out before Slade removes the knife from his stomach.

"Patch him up and prep him for the surgery." Slade orders the Russians as they pump him with a needle. "Waller wants him alive."