Chapter 1
Ra's Al Ghul followed the bloodline down to the entrance of the Ace Chemicals factory. The blood glistened in the moonlight, snaking around the side of the factory in little droplets.
He knelt to the asphalt and dipped his pinky into the blood. Superbly fresh.
"We just missed him," said Ra's. He wiped his finger on his cloak. "I would say by about three minutes."
"Let's go," said a female voice. "There's nothing for us here."
"No, my daughter, we need to clean up after him. Find the victims."
His daughter, Talia Al Ghul, materialized from the shadows. Her face was sour.
"You are a soft man, Father."
But she disappeared into the night like a wraith, moving in complete silence. Two minutes later, she emerged from the other side of the factory, her expression grim.
"They're in a storage bin. Badly beaten, but alive."
Ra's smiled softly. "Incredible."
She led him to the storage bin— inside were a dozen security guards on the ground with their arms tied behind them to a metal post. They all wore blindfolds. At the sound of footsteps, some of the security guards perked their heads up.
"W—who's there?"
"Help, please, whoever you are. One of our men is bleeding out."
Ra's Al Ghul beheld the scene for a moment. Such amateurs. They never stood a chance.
"He certainly has become more savage," said Talia pointedly.
"Indeed," said Ra's. He walked around the security guards and found the bleeding man. He was unconscious with a shallow pool of blood collecting underneath him. Ra's gently turned the man's leg: there was a long, shallow gash along the thigh.
"Missed the femoral by a centimeter," said Ra's. "You poor, lucky bastard."
He pulled a small syringe from his pocket. There was vibrant green liquid swishing about inside. Ra's brought it to the security's guard thigh and injected him. The unconscious man made a low, slurring sound.
An adjacent guard twitched at the sound. "What are you doing to him?"
"Saving his life," said Ra's dispassionately. He put away the syringe. "Although he doesn't deserve it—none of you do. And you call yourselves 'professionals.'"
A watch on Talia's wrist suddenly let out a chirp.
"The silent alarm has called the police," said Talia. "They should be here in minutes."
"Call an ambulance," said Ra's. "Otherwise this will be homicide instead of robbery. We do not need the extra attention."
Talia's face turned even sourer, but she did as commanded.
They walked out of the storage bin. There were police sirens wailing distantly.
"That's two factories out of three, Father," said Talia. She looked up at the glowing neon Ace Chemicals sign above them. "Now he only needs one more."
"I know how to count, Talia."
Talia stepped in front of her father, her arms crossed. "Then you realized we can't stop him. Not by ourselves. We need help."
"And I agree with you. But as we've discussed before: they will be allies of my choosing."
Talia's eyes narrowed. "And as we haven't discussed before: you are using my warriors, because you killed all of yours trying to chase himdown."
Ra's exhaled through his nostrils. "Your point being?"
"That threats coming from a man without any soldiers behind him are not real threats," said Talia sweetly. "And if these new allies of yours prove to be unworthy, the decision will fall unto me. And I will do what must be done."
Blue-and-red neon lights flashed across the patina of the city's skyscrapers. The roar of the police engines rumbled.
"Enough," said Ra's, dismissing the conversation with a deft whip of his hand. "Tomorrow we pay them a visit. We will get these allies you are so anxious to acquire."
"They won't be enough," said Talia. She disappeared into the shadows with an arrogant swagger in her hips.
"They'll be enough," said Ra's. He turned his eyes over the river, looking out to the edges of the city limits: a singular hill stood in the distance, overlooking the river basin. And there was an impressive home sitting upon the crest of the hill. A home with a family.
That family had no idea what was in store for them tomorrow.
"They will be enough," repeated Ra's.
He hated how hopeful he sounded. He did not like relying on an immeasurably elusive substance like hope. Maybe his daughter was right. He sounded incredibly naïve.
"For your sake, Bruce," he added quietly, before disappearing into the night. "I hope that they're enough."