Terry ends up taking Matt to his summer day camp. His mother, when she leaves for work, tells him to take his little brother on the subway and not his motorcycle. At the time, Terry says that he will follow her advice, and he means it. But Matt's presentation of a costume helmet and a puppy-eyed plea awaken in Terry a sense of intense fraternal affection, and he can't help but say yes, just this once. So Matt rides to camp on the back seat of his motorcycle, with a lot of ecstatic whooping and hollering.
The camp is actually located in a large domed park atop a fifty-story building, with its offices and other facilities contained in the top floor. Terry lets his brother off near an external elevator at the side of the building that's marked with the camp's name (something so utterly campy, pun intended, that Terry tries to push it out of his mind the instant he reads it). There group of children lined up outside the elevator are very impressed by Matt's mode of transportation. The counselor who supervises them has to dissuade them from leaving the sidewalk to approach the bike.
"Remember," Terry whispers to Matt, "Don't tell mom."
"I won't. Cross my heart and hope to die," Matt says solemnly. Then he runs to join the end of the line. Terry, who gets some fulfillment out of the knowledge that he's made his little brother happy for today, changes course to head for Wayne Manor. His mother might conceivably find out about Matt's unauthorized motorcycle ride, but Terry is not afraid of getting in trouble for that. Being grounded would not make that much of a difference to him right now.
Since he is without distractions, he finds himself thinking about the nightmare again. The memory of the terror it caused in him is not so fresh as it was when he woke up this morning, but just thinking about it makes his blood feel just a little bit colder. It was so real; even now, almost two hours later, he can remember every detail, when he forgets most of his dreams within a minute of waking. He feels like it's been branded on to him, somehow.
Lost in thought, Terry almost misses his exit on the freeway. He corrects his mistake just in time by cutting across a lane, inviting someone's car horn and curses. The offended motorist's passenger, sitting in shotgun, goes so far as to flip him the bird. He ignores it.
The narrow road he's following winds about a mile up an incline towards the Manor grounds. Back when the place was built in the nineteen-twenties, the freeway was a quiet two-lane road, and the majority of those who drove on it (there were few) were either going to or coming from Wayne Manor. The mansion used to be far, far away from the outskirts of the city, a vast tract of rocky, unoccupied land separating it from Gotham proper. In the years since then, however, the city has expanded a great deal – now there's only two kilometers' clearance between the outer walls of the estate and the edge of the city, and that's only because Mr. Wayne bought up all the land within a two-kilometer radius of the original estate back around the turn of the millennium, to make sure no unauthorized persons would get too close to the Batcave. That strategy worked perfectly, except where Terry was concerned. As far as anyone else knows, Wayne is just too attached to his quiet and privacy to let the city run up against the walls surrounding the hill on which his mansion is perched.
When Terry gets through the front gate, he's greeted by Ace in the same way that he was yesterday. The big dog darts into his pet door (cleverly hidden behind some bushes and keyed to open by a chip in his collar) while Terry puts his bike away. After taking care of Ace's food and water, he heads down to the cave. He thinks of calling Mr. Wayne, but an uneasy feeling caused by a nightmare would not make a good pretext for it. Especially since Terry wants to avoid mentioning Melanie to his boss – or anyone else, for that matter – at all costs. He wishes he could talk to the old man, and at the same time he's glad that Wayne's not here to see how troubled he is and question him about it.
It's more than just Melanie, though. With everything that's been going on lately, Terry feels like he's aged ten years in as many days. His world has been smashed apart and it's being put back together according to some plan he can't comprehend, let alone control. He felt that way when his parents split up years ago, and even more so when his dad died. There's no way he can discuss that with Mr. Wayne. He doesn't want to tell the old man that he feels helpless and lost.
Terry considers suiting up and starting on his rounds early. It'll give him something worthwhile to do, and if he can make his life simpler for a few hours longer, then he's all for it. But something in him rebels against the idea. Batman can go out in the daylight, but he doesn't like to do so unless something makes it necessary. He's a nighttime creature, like his namesake. So Terry does the next best thing; he practices, drilling in all the moves and forms that Wayne and Tenaga sensei taught him. Focusing on the drills keeps his thoughts out of places where he doesn't want them to go. Ace reclines nearby, his head resting on his paws, and watches with mild interest, occasionally scratching an itch or shifting to a more comfortable position.
After a few hours of this, Terry breaks off for a late lunch, then turns on the computer in the cave to do some research. Back when Mr. Wayne was Batman, he collected every scrap of information that might conceivably be of some use to him and stored it in the databanks. He has a detailed file on every criminal individual or organization he's ever encountered, and a few he hasn't but is keeping (or kept) an eye on. There are also files on members of the JLU, both past and present, probably a lot more detailed than they would be comfortable with. Both good guys and bad guys are listed alphabetically with their personal history, medical records, psychological profiles – everything including the kitchen sink – available at the touch of a button. It's enough to put the FBI, CIA and Interpol to shame.
Wayne's also put together files on all of Terry's adversaries. During Terry's first months as Batman he did it himself. At some point his protégé became involved in the process – Terry's still not sure whether he did it on his own or with a little push from his boss. Now this aspect of the operation is split roughly equally between them, with Max providing the occasional bit of help. Right now, Terry is putting together a file on Natalie's vigilantes. Wayne already has the beginnings of one, based on news reports and items from 'alternative' sources of information pertaining to the subject. After that meeting last night (or early this morning, depending), Terry has a whole lot of new information to add to the file. He wonders if Wayne will be impressed with his work when he returns. That would be something to see – the old man is extremely difficult to impress.
Once he's done with that, he searches the Web for more articles on the vigilantes, using their names and cities as criteria. By now he's got the names of the six that have appeared so far: Kitsune, of course, is the first. There's a guy called Silverwolf in Philadelphia, a Tigress in Miami, a Thunderbird in Chicago, and a Raven in Houston (a lot of them seem to be into animal themes, but then again, so is Batman). Last but not least is Musashi, the other person who got his theme from Japanese legend. Although Musashi, unlike the fox spirit that is Kitsune's namesake, actually existed. Terry wonders how many people understood the reference.
That done, he starts looking for more information on Natalie Milou herself. He's hoping to find something on her and Batman – Terry wants to know just how Mr. Wayne saved her life way back when. It might give him some clue as to why she's running this operation now. He's certain that that incident has something to do with it.
Terry doesn't get much research on her done, however, before the computer emits a warning beep and a window pops up, showing a blinking red dot on a map of Gotham City. The computer in the cave, like the one in the Batmobile, monitors police frequencies. He turns up the volume so he can listen to the police broadcasts while he's up and putting on the suit.
"This is unit 302 – there's just been an explosion in the lobby of 5603 East 11th street," an officer says. The address sounds familiar – for a moment Terry can't quite recall why, but when he does he feels an icy hand take hold of his insides and give them a good twist. It's the Rawlings building, where his mother works. She's the assistant director of the bank in the lobby.
"Copy that, 302. We're sending additional units and a bomb squad." That's Commissioner Gordon talking. "Ambulances are on the way. What's the situation down there?"
"It's difficult to see from here…the doors have been demolished, but there's a lot of smoke. I'll have to go in for a closer look."
"All right," Gordon agrees, "But be careful. Go in slowly." As Terry pulls the cowl down over his head, he hears a number of sounds coming in from the police radio: there are the back-and-forth messages of police units communicating with each other, the soft sound of movement as the police officer near the Rawlings building edges toward the lobby, and the clashing wails of various sirens.
Suiting up sharpens his senses, focuses his mind, makes his body more graceful and fluid. It's not the little gadgets in the suit that do this, but the psychological change that takes place when he puts it on and lets Batman take the wheel. His anxiousness transforms into exhilaration, the force that lets him realize his full potential.
Terry runs to the Batmobile on its landing pad, presses a button on his belt to open the cockpit. Then he leaps in and hits a few buttons to start the engine. The craft powers up, all the cockpit lights go on, and the canopy begins to close. Terry flips another switch so that he can listen to the police radios over the onboard speakers.
When he does, he hears a new sound – distant, angry shouts, too faint for him to make out the exact words. The voice, however, is familiar to him.
"It's Mad Stan," Gordon says, putting a name to the voice just as Terry does so in his own mind. "Pull back and wait for reinforcements to arrive."
He lifts off from the landing pad and guides the Batmobile towards the cave exit. The door opens at his approach, and he picks up a little more speed as he goes through. When it closes behind him, it's impossible to tell the outside of the door from the rock of the cliff face it's set in. Once Terry's a safe distance from the cave and certain that there's nobody around to see him, he twists the throttle as far as it will go and blasts into the sky, wheeling around to head for the center of Gotham.
The hunt is on.