The Story Thus Far:
Batgirl, in investigating the possible return of the terrorist organization known as The Council, stumbled it's cloned soldiers who're trying their best to resurrect their former organization. Unfortunately, she's not the only one. Former allies of Paul Kirk, who gave his life to stop the Council the first time and a clone of the same hero have all converged, forcing Cassandra to ride herd on a team filled with petty grudges.
This rag tag team of allies managed to work together just long enough to intercept an vital part of the clones plan to resurrect The Council, were six young boys.
&
DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl # 10
Nature's War
Part 3
These Boys of Brazil
&
Gotham City
Kirk Depaul, Manhunter, brought his wrist up just in time to block a knife from cutting his throat. The edged weapon tore across the length of his arm, but the cloned hero barely winced the pain. He had suffered far worse in the bush of Africa, and took the hit to get into position. He rammed his elbow forward, smashing it in the face of the clone who proudly identified himself as Number Four, in service of the Council.
Number Four fell to the ground like a sack of bricks. He and Manhunter were exact genetic duplicates, but even so, skill was one trait they didn't share.
One down, only an army to go, Kirk observed to himself. Right now, he really missed his old metahuman teammates, The Power Company. But after spending so long in the shadows, Manhunter doubted he could find any assistance, even old associates, in time enough to stop the Council's return to power.
After so long undercover, the goal of stopping his former masters was nearly all consuming to Kirk. He knew in his bones that they created him to be a slave, to be a weapon and he hated them for it. And while Manhunter didn't fear that they might try to take him back, he still wanted to make them pay for their arrogance.
The Council may have given Kirk Depaul life, but he saw no reason to be thankful for the gift. After all, he was the one who made his life actually worth living.
&
Asano Nitobe waded through the dozens of mercenaries, neither knowing nor caring who was on what side. In terms of allies, he had only three, all of whom could protect themselves.
Nitobe was a man who mastered the martial arts before the end of the second World War. He was still relatively young and vital today ironically because of The Council. But even their miracle sciences had their limits. As months passed, he could feel himself getting slower, his instincts becoming duller.
Unlike so many other warriors, he had no desire to die in battle. A comfortable bed and old age was enough for this ninja warrior. But Asano wanted to lose himself in battle as many times before he met his end, to feel his heart pounding and blood pumping as he tested his mettle against mercenary and clone alike. Blood splashed against his horned mask, and the old ninja felt content.
&
In the midst of all this, Batgirl's mind raced as she accessed the situation. Why had the clone soldiers put so much effort and secrecy into kidnapping and securing six seemingly ordinary boys? Why were these mercenaries so intent on capturing the same boys for themselves and who could have tipped them off?
Unfortunately, battle left little room for solving mysteries. Before Batgirl could think of any possible answer, she heard the signature –thunk!- of a grenade hitting asphalt, and looking down, and spied one less than three feet away. Too far to grab in enough time, but still close enough to do damage, especially if it carried shrapnel.
Batgirl threw the doors of the van closed, and leapt away just as the grenade exploded. The force of the blast carried the young crime fighter through the air farther and faster than she intended. Batgirl hit the ground hard and rolled to a painful stop.
Fighting to regain control of her senses and body itself, Batgirl could do nothing about the three mercenaries who raced to her downed form, ready to deliver the coup de grace.
"Cover me!" ordered the man in the lead, "these Bats wear body armor, head shot is the only way to be sure!"
Batgirl could feel the barrel pointed at her, but before the hired soldier could squeeze off a shot, the clone identified as Peter came out nowhere and dislocated the man's jaw with a single punch. Unfortunately, the man's friends reacted instantly, riddling the clone's body with bullets.
"Think we don't know what you can do?" spat one of the men, "think we can't kill you?"
"I know you won't."
A batarang smacked the gun from the mercenary's hand and ricocheted to collide with his skull. The third man turned his attention from Peter just in time to see Batgirl's knee about to collide with his face. A second later, and he was no longer a factor.
Batgirl took a moment to access the situation. The entire block looked as if it were caught in some weird war. Mercenaries fought with clones who in turn fought with an old cabal of allies that had their own clone, a ninja and Interpol agent. Batgirl could only imagine how terrified the residents were, and the children…
"We have to get them out of here," Peter choked out, as if he was reading her mind. His lungs were full of blood, but Batgirl knew that the man's healing factor would remedy that soon enough, "it's the children they're after!"
"You can't take them!" Batgirl spat.
"Do you think that they're safer here?" snapped Peter, his face livid with concern, "those men have carbines with armor piecing bullets! They don't cut through flesh, they punch through organs like a fist! Would you rather they die?"
As if fate sought to demonstrate Peter's point, Batgirl saw one of the mercenaries fall to St. Clair's bullet. The man took a shot to the neck, and fell backwards, his hand still on the trigger. As he went down, he squeezed off several shots that punched through the steel frame of a parked truck.
Allowing a kidnapper to get away with hostages wasn't something Batman would normally allow, neither was allowing them to be killed in the crossfire. Allowing their escape, Batgirl realized, was easily the lesser of two evils and worse, her only option. Batgirl would see Peter's concern for the children, his fear that they may come to harm. For whatever reason, their safety was paramount to him.
And in contrast, Batgirl saw how her allies cared for little anything that was around them, be it the innocent children in the truck or unfortunate bystanders who have been caught in the crossfire when the shooting started.
Hell, no one even paid any attention to Batgirl and Peter, only six feet away from the battle on the sidewalk but to both sides, they might have well been on the moon.
But even so, Batgirl couldn't surrender them without more information. She backhanded Peter across the face, blood splattering across her knuckles, and dragged him to his feet.
"How do I know…you won't hurt them?" snarled Batgirl. Part of her knew his answer, but an even bigger part of her needed to hear him say it.
"I would never allow any harm to come to those children," Peter answered in a voice of steel, "I'd sooner die."
Batgirl plainly saw how earnest, how honest the man was standing before her. Kirk Depaul paled in comparison to this man, his genetic copy and for a moment, Batgirl regretted that this man was her enemy.
But then she remembered that she had to provide cover for him while he escaped with innocent children his people had kidnapped for reasons still unknown. In between breaths, her remorse died.
"Stay close," Batgirl ordered, "and move quickly."
Batgirl darted forward, aimed at the nearest mercenary. Two of them were in the middle of the street, having pinned down Agent St. Clair behind an old Toyota. The Daughter of Cain drove slammed her elbow down on the first man's skull and snapped kicked the second man.
"Go!" snapped Batgirl as she reached for the man's grenades.
Peter didn't waste a second, sprinting to the delivery truck and hopping in the front seat. He gunned the engine just as Batgirl began lobbing the grenades.
"Grenades, down!" Batgirl didn't know who yelled, but everyone took the man's advise. It didn't pay to stay out in the open when someone was tossing grenades around, that was just common sense.
It was that reaction that Batgirl was counting on. She hadn't even bothered to pull the pins.
"Go!"
Peter gunned the engine and peeled down the street. St. Clair, Manhunter and Nitobe watched in horror as the delivery truck that had God only knew what (to them, anyways) rocket down the street and around a corner like a bat out of hell.
"Manhunter, Nitobe!" The Daughter of Cain held a batarang in each hand, "we end this now! St. Clair…have that van followed!"
The bataranges flew through the air, striking two mercenaries. Instantly, the mechanisms within them were activated and enough voltage to stun a bear surged through their bodies.
Manhunter and Asano Nitobe fell into place behind Batgirl, and moved against the remaining mercenaries as if they were of one mind with three bodies. Manhunter's katar sliced through body armor, while batanges dealt with the enemies outside it's reach, and a weighted chain and skilled hands dealt with those who remained.
As the trio moved into action, Batgirl spared a glance to watch and admire the contrasting styles. Nitobe moved like the wind, relying on precision and speed as he swept through the mercenaries, while Manhunter seemed like an animal, moving with a certain combination of bull headed muscle, but still capable of using grace in split second moments. Batgirl supposed it was because his healing factor allowed him to be more forceful and direct without having to worry about, but it was still a fascinating sight to see.
Between the three of them, the dozen remaining, elite mercenaries never had a chance. Batgirl finished the last man off with a snap kick just as she heard the police sirens in the distance.
"Looks like someone hear finally called the cops," Manhunter observed.
Batgirl nodded. In a neighborhood like this, she wasn't surprised reinforcements were so late in coming. Murder in broad daylight rarely drew a second glance, but a mercenary team with high powered automatics fighting vigilantes in the street had a way of cutting through that indifference.
Batgirl glanced around the block until she saw a parked Peugeot 405 MiI6, with perfect red paint. In as neighborhood like this, in perfect condition, it could only belong to a drug dealer or worse.
"That car, take it!" Batgirl pointed towards the car, "Need a moment alone."
Batgirl reached into her utility belt and removed a small capsule. Kneeling down next to the closest mercenary, she snapped the pellet in two and waited for him to regain consciousness.
The first thing Benjamin Howell saw when he opened his eyes was a young woman with a leather mask, with a look of anger on her face that would terrify most wild animals. He immediately reached for the sidearm on his hip, but as soon as he brought it up, Batgirl swatted it away dismissively and grabbed the sides of his head.
For a second, Howell thought this freak might be a meta-human, some kind of telepath. But then his vision went white and mind exploded in pain so vast he couldn't even scream.
But almost as quickly as the agony came, it left and Ben, a five year veteran of special ops, was left blinking back tears.
"Who do you work for!" demanded Batgirl.
"Someone…who'd do even worse if I even spoke his name," Ben coughed, blinking the spots out of his vision.
Batgirl studied the man for a moment. He was speaking the truth as he knew it. He was a skilled, seasoned warrior who preferred to deal with threats up close and personal and feared little, from what she remembered of his actions only minutes earlier. But here and now, the very thought of his employer filled the man with a deep, abiding undertone of fear.
Batgirl knew she didn't have enough time or information to break through that wall of fear now. The clones had escaped, and now had hostages.
Something you allowed, Batgirl chided herself, in His voice. She felt a fear gnawing at her gut every second she didn't know where those innocent children were. Allowing a kidnapper escape with their intended victim went against every fiber of her being, even if it was to ensure they weren't killed in the crossfire. A necessary evil felt no less evil to Batgirl.
Batgirl dispatched the man with a simple blow, and ran to her allies. At the moment, the only thing that matter were those six children, kidnapped and terrified out of their minds.
Batgirl leapt into the rear seat of the car a second or two before St. Clair was ready to pull away.
"Learn anything?" asked Manhunter.
"Nothing," Batgirl answered.
"It was probably one of the clones selling the other out," St. Clair hissed. Manhunter didn't take the bait, but Batgirl did.
"They're not him," Batgirl snapped, "get over it."
"You don't understand," St. Clair snarled, "how could you? You wear the emblem of a man with no identity of your own…"
"Better than chasing the memory of a dead man," Batgirl retorted.
"Boy, I'm glad we're all feeling so cuddly, aren't you sensei?"
&
Kolu Mbeya watched his instruments intently as he waited for his partners to make their appearance. He had tracked the van to a dilapidated storage depot, but given that he was piloting a modified helicopter, that's where his pursuit ended. All he could do now was send an open channel beacon to his partners, and hope that they arrived soon.
"Come on, come on," he muttered. Kolu ran his fingers across the board, and did an infrared scan of the building, and came up empty. Either the people he was tracking disappeared, or the building was shielded somehow, preventing his instruments from detecting anything.
Mbeya silently feared that it was both.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car approaching the lot, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Let them save those kids…" he muttered to higher power that might be listening. He had no idea why those cloned bastards would want or need children for, but
&
Batgirl, Christine, Manhunter and Nitobe got out of the car in record time, and fought against their instincts to rush inside the building as they inspected the area for traps, sniper's positions, anything that might indicate what kind of trap awaited them.
They didn't have to search long, however. Within seconds of their arrival, one of the clones of Paul Kirk, threw open one of the storage compartment doors and walked out, explosives strapped around his waist.
As if the thick bars of C-4 weren't enough, there was at least a dozen barrels of unknown material sitting in plain sight behind the man, all wired to a detonator.
Batgirl drew a batarang instantly, but held off attacking. The man's body language wasn't aggressive, at least not in a manner that implied he was going to attack. He had something he wanted to say, and Batgirl thought it better to allow him to speak his mind than to provoke someone with over a hundred pounds of explosive.
"You have no idea what you're trying to stop! We do what we do for the good of the world!" yelled the clone soldier. Batgirl could see how he meant every word with a fierce, dedicated passion, "we can save this world, if you would just let us!"
"I too once believed that," Nitobe answered, "but I learned that no good can come from the Council's tactics. Murder, terror…I has to end."
"Return the children," Batgirl ordered, "now. And we may show mercy."
The clone regarded Batgirl with nothing but contempt.
"Those children are our future."
Those words were the clone's epithet. He stepped backwards and once he was inside the storage depot, released the deadman switch.
There were over a dozen explosions in all. One followed after the other, casting balls of fire some three stories in the air. The building groaned as steel melted and building struts were reduced to so much dust. The night's sky was awash in flame, as if the explosion had torn a hole down to hell itself.
Batgirl stood there watching, utterly unflinching as their one and only link to The Council was eradicated from the face of the earth. It would take Gotham PD weeks to sift through the remains, to find anything that resembled usable evidence. To Batgirl, those weeks might as well be decades. Batgirl knew, without bothering to look at any of her tools, that the clones had found and ditched the tracers she had planted, and now, nothing short of a miracle would allow her to pick up their trail.
The four of them stood there for a moment, soaking in the pure destruction that the clones soldiers had unleashed, all in the name of burning the bridge behind them. Though St. Clair and Nitobe would never say it aloud, they both saw the pile of devastated brick and mortar as a fitting testament to madness of the soldier clones.
The gathered heroes observed the shattered, smoldering building in silence for a moment, trying to decide what their next course of action might be.
"This all because of you," St. Clair growled at Batgirl, "you let them get away! You screwed up what could have been a perfectly clean op! We could have ended this!"
Batgirl stood there for a moment, taking in the anger from St. Clair, and silent contempt she saw in the elder ninja.
Batgirl looked to towards the Interpol agent with a look of casual contempt, "I could say the same…to you."
Manhunter stepped between the two women before the situation would escalate further, "Look, this isn't going to get us anywhere. We all have our sources and now, more than ever, we need to use them. WE need to split up, pump them for information and hope to God we find something."
"Agreed," Batgirl spun on her heel and began to walk away.
"Hey, don't you want to set up a rendezvous for later?"
Batgirl stopped, and then turned her head towards her allies with a smug yet grim look, "There's nowhere in Gotham I won't be able to find you."
Batgirl sprinted away, and the second she was out of earshot, she activated her cowl's radio.
"Oracle."
"Receiving, Cass. How'd the mission go?"
"Poorly," Batgirl's tone managed to convey everything, "will brief later. But I…need something."
"Name it."
"Dig up info on Council. Everything anyone has. No matter how…"Batgirl gritted her teeth. She knew the word she wanted to say, yet…didn't, it if it were just out of reach. It was infuriating in a small and embarrassing way, "…minor."
"Will do. I'll have the information ready for you when you get back to your cave. Anything else?"
"Yes. Do you have my location?"
"Always."
"Where can I… find paper and pen?"
&
Batgirl came through the sewer entrance to her cave, and found her personal supercomputer waiting, with Oracle's face on the screen.
Batgirl pulled out a sheet of paper and held it face down against her scanner, like Nightwing had taught her. The devise worked automatically and within a few moments, her drawing was up on the computer screen beside Oracle.
"Are these the kidnapped children you saw?" asked Barbara.
"Yes. Need you to run… comparison."
Barbara examined the sketches for a moment, and observed how Cassandra's impromptu sketches easily equaled the work of most professionals she had encountered.
"These are pretty good. You're as good as any sketch artist I've ever seen, have you considered taking some art classes?"
"Oracle…" grated Batgirl.
"My program's still running," Barbara countered, "and don't try to hush me, young lady. I don't take that from Bruce and I won't take it from you."
Batgirl rubbed the bridge of her nose in annoyance.
"Okay, the program's ready. Who do you want me to run the sketches against?"
Batgirl told her, and Oracle felt a foreboding chill run down her spine as she executed the program.
The digital comparisons came back inside of a minute, and the result surprised no one.
"You were right," Oracle leaned back in her chair and breathed out as she realized the implications, "Wow…this explains so much. Especially how they came back the second time even though Bruce confirmed their deaths."
"Just more… complic…problems," Batgirl scowled.
"Yeah, that too," Oracle shook her head, "now what?"
"You learn anything…new?"
"Actually, I did," Oracle answered, "that gas the clones stole was meant to act as an experimental riot control gas for Arkham. Something to chew on."
Cassandra gave Barbara an odd look.
"That means think about it," Oracle explained, "I assume that you're turning in for the night?"
"Yes, trail's cold. Will look tomorrow," Cassandra yawned, despite herself, "You find anything… extra I need know?"
"No, you're up to speed," corrected Oracle, "and you're right. These guys have gone to ground and we won't pick up the trail again tonight. Good night, kiddo. And Cassandra? Batman would be proud of your deduction. I know I am."
"I let them get away," Cassandra retorted, her face flush with anger "HE…wouldn't be proud of that!"
"Some situations get worse before they get better," Oracle replied, "Cain raised you to know the exact speciation of damn near every weapon on the planet. And we've both seen what a high velocity round can do to a child's body."
"That's not good enough," Cass answered.
"I'll see if Nightwing can lend a hand, but have faith in yourself," Oracle said, "I know Batman does."
The screen went dead, and Cassandra was left alone with her thoughts.
&
As luck would have it, the next day was a weekend (something notable to Cassandra only in that there would be a rise in stupid kids on the street later tonight and she didn't have to attend classes), which left Cassandra with nothing to do but stew over the past several days.
Cassandra spent the morning examining every file related to the Council that she could find. From the reports detailing their founding, to Batman's first encounter with the Manhunter named Paul Kirk, to their seeming destruction at the hands of Black Adam, Cassandra poured over every scrap of information.
When Tatsu came down and delivered lunch, Cassandra barely flinched.
After several hours of research, Cassandra decided to spend the remainder of her time readying herself physically. Batgirl spent the time stretching her muscles, moving through several katas while she was wearing her Batgirl uniform, fully stocked with weapons. Something in her gut told her tonight would be her last chance to stop the Council and their clone soldiers and she had to be ready.
Roughly an hour and a half before sun down, Batgirl's katas were interrupted by a katana that slid across the floor, the hilt coming to a smooth stop when it struck her heel.
"You're doing it wrong," Tatsu said plainly. Cassandra turned to face her guardian, and was a little surprised to see her wearing her old Outsiders uniform, albeit with the mask down.
Cassandra picked up the sword and unsheathed it slowly, testing its weight and balance.
"What mistake?" she asked defensively.
Katana assumed a fighting stance, "I think it would be better if I demonstrated."
Batgirl moved flawlessly to block Katana's opening swing, aimed at her shoulder. She then pulled back and swept her sword towards Tatsu's neck, and was likewise blocked.
From there, the action was a blur. Cassandra moved on instinct, and to her mild surprise, Katana matched her step for step. Her foot work was flawless, and she wielded the sword as if it were simply can extension of her body. Cassandra, though wide eyed rookie, found herself pressed to keep up with her mentor's skill.
After what felt like an hour (but in reality was five minutes) of carefully calculated parries, missed openings and skillful dodges, Tatsu brought her sword swinging towards Cassandra's face, where it was blocked. The two heroines met eye to eye.
And then, suddenly, Tatsu looked away. Cassandra saw a mixture of shock and horror spread across her body, and instantly the sparring match was forgotten. Cassandra turned her head to see what Tatsu had seen, but saw nothing. By the time that registered in her mind, Cassandra was already careening to the floor.
"Your mistake, Cassandra, is tunnel vision," Tatsu held the tip of her sword to Cassandra's throat to emphasize her point, "what you failed to consider was that I know of your ability to read body language, and that I might be able to use that knowledge against you," Tatsu sheathed her sword and helped Cassandra to her feet, "Sometimes, you need to look outside a situation to fully understand it."
"Understand," Cassandra nodded, and then paused, "To fool me…you channeled a memory, right?"
"That's correct," Tatsu confirmed.
"What… happened?" Cassandra asked uncomfortably. The memory Tatsu used…wasn't pleasant.
Tatsu shook her head dismissively, "I'll tell you one day, but not today. You already have enough to deal with. You need to be going."
Cassandra paused for a moment, torn between leaving for patrol and doing what she felt she needed to do.
With child like hesitation, Cassandra reached out and hugged Tatsu in a way she'd seen hundreds of daughters hug their own mothers, but had never once done herself. Cassandra's anxiety evaporated when Tatsu returned the hug, for which Cassandra was thankful, for several reasons. After all, she was never entirely certain what was really physically appropriate contact outside of a fight or a sparring match.
"Thank you," Tatsu broke the hug "and remember what I said. Also, when you want a distraction, try visiting your friends instead of holing up underground."
"It's not a school day," observed Cassandra matter of factly.
"So? You can associate with your friends outside school."
"Oh…" Cassandra looked to the floor as she processed the idea. She then looked towards her guardian and softly, hesitantly asked, "…how?"
&
Asano Nitobe dressed himself in his jet-black gi, and placed his horned demon mask across his face with the reverence a Priest reserved for his robes. With his father's sword strapped to his back, he met his comrades in the center of their rented warehouse, and made their way to the roof.
The trio had been hunting the remnants of the Council, and Paul Kirk's clones for so long, they had developed something of a sixth sense for it. And each felt in their bones, that tonight would be the final battle of a war started so long ago.
When the trio reached the roof, Manhunter of Power Company was waiting. He tapped his foot impatiently as he stood next to their customized Apache helicopter.
"Sun went down ten minutes ago people, we're burning moonlight," said Manhunter.
"Don't tempt us to burn something else," St. Claire remarked.
"Any time, any place," Manhunter shot back, "I'm not some inexperienced clone you can pick off at fifty yards at your leisure."
"That's enough Manhunter. We're as sick of you as you are of us, lets get this over with," Kolu Mbeya reached into his pocket and removed a tiny devise. Aiming it the helicopter, Mbeya waited until he heard a soft beep and then motioned for his teammates to board, "there, defenses off. You won't get shocked now when you try to get in. Next time, wait instead of trying to pull some lame ass ninja trick."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Manhunter tucked his still healing hand under his elbow, "but lets roll out already."
Mbeya slid the helicopter panel open and did a double take as he saw Batgirl calmly sitting there lotus style.
"I know where to find them."
&
To the credit of it's designer, the motor of the helicopter created half the noise of the average helicopter. Which unfortunately for Batgirl, meant that it wasn't nearly loud enough to drown out her thoughts.
After her talk with Katana, everything fell into place for Batgirl. Why the clones wanted a riot gas, why Batman allowed such a thing, everything fit together like the perfect kata.
"Batgirl, report…!"
"Diversion," Batgirl replied back into her cowl radio.
"You don't even know what I'm talking about," Oracle observed.
"There's a team…at Arkham," stated Batgirl, "holding it for ransom…decoy."
"You're right about the first part," Oracle stated, "I've got Nightwing, Robin and about half the Gotham police department there now. I'm pretty sure this is your group, and they're threatening to blow the cells. We need you over there, Cassandra. If they open the cells…"
"It's a bluff," Batgirl repeated, "handle it. I'm needed…elsewhere."
"Cassand…" Batgirl terminated the link. She knew it was rude, but at the same time, recognized that she just didn't have the time to effectively explain her reasoning. Not with her imperfect language skills. And worse, if she did actually manage to convince Oracle of her logic, the bluff at Arkham would become very real, this early into the operation.
"We're coming up on the prison now. Looks like you were right, Batgirl," Mbeya reported. No one missed the tremor in his voice.
Awaiting dead ahead was Blackgate Prison, home of Gotham's more and more mentally stable (a relative term in Gotham) criminals. Build atop an island atoll, the prison was built to house three thousand criminals and took up the length of an entire city block. Four walls that were three stories high lined with barb wires kept the prison population inside and discouraged the average jail break. But for all its security and isolation, Blackgate's security was barely a deterrent to those well versed in infiltration.
After all Batgirl came and went from the island as she pleased. Their security details were little more than an after-thought to someone who operated on her level.
And as she feared, Batgirl wasn't the only one skilled enough to breach its defenses. She didn't yet know the details, but judging from the giant barge sitting off the island docks, the hundreds of prisoners and guards who passively roamed the docks and small island shoreline together, she wasn't the only one capable of seamlessly infiltrating the prison.
"They must have used the gas to bring them under their control," St. Clair deduced.
"It's a good place to hit," Mahunter remarked, "well armed in case of riots, plenty of strong men, most of whom wouldn't fight liberation too hard. Bet their plan is to head out to see with the best ones and those who don't want to join up have to swim home."
Batgirl nodded in agreement, not concerned with stating that she'd already deduced their plan two hours ago.
It had come to her when she decided to look at one of the components not from Batgirl's perspective, but from Lex Luthor, of all people. Luthor had to know that Batman would never allow him to create a mind control gas. But Luthor also knew that Batman might forgive a gas meant to pacify Arkham Asylum, regular home of The Joker, Killer Croc, Scarecrow and countless others. Batgirl knew that her mentor would give almost anything to keep those monsters in their cells.
Batgirl and anyone who knew Batman knew that. And so Luthor preyed upon that desire. But he also overplayed his hand. Under casual inspection, the idea seemed solid. But Batgirl knew that those Arkham Asylum were often radically different. Inmates like the Joker and Killer Croc were chemically insane, there was no way even a genius like Lex Luthor could create a single gas to control them all.
No, Lex Luthor created a smoke screen that worked because Batman wanted to believe it and created it under his very nose, in Batman's city.
Had she the time, Batgirl might have felt a small bit of pride at her deductions. But between the small army of criminals, six innocent hostages and clone warriors awaiting her, she just couldn't muster the strength.
"Take us over. I'm getting out."
Mbeya nodded and came in hard and fast. Batgirl swung open the side panel door, took one look at the horde now below her, and fell forward.
Next issue: The conclusion to Nature's War!