The penthouses within the Final Offer sat on the ship's topmost public floor. Each of the five floors of the ship contained an assortment of slot machines, tables, restaurants and entertainment like as jazz lounges. Several of the suites overlooked the top deck, which bore several bars and a swimming pool exclusively for use by a few scantily clad entertainers late into the night.

The penthouses themselves were not open spaces. For the most part, the rooms forwent the extra room for added luxuries, such bars, Jacuzzis adjacent to the living room and large beds. Each had a monochromatic design upon the carpet and décor that kept with the rest of the ship. Within one of the penthouses, an hour out from shore, several pieces of latex laid next to a bottle of body glue. The latex appeared to form several scars and lacerations. It was an old trick for throwing off security, give them a defining trait to look for and just peel it off.

The man renting the suite was in the bathroom, meticulously running over his neck with a straight razor. The years were catching up with him, even the surgeries the League funded couldn't keep all of the damage done invisible. There was a bottle of some inky black substance that would color his hair for the act and he could wash out without a trace afterwards, it would be nice to pretend to be young again.

David Cain did not turn when he heard the light creek of the patio door being opened. His only response to the tiny footsteps that followed was to reach into his toiletries bag. Cain set down the razor and counted backwards. Five. Four. Three. Two-

Cain pulled a shuriken out from the bag and tossed it toward the sound. There was a clap as the one advancing caught the weapon.

Without turning, Cain pulled a hand towel from his right side and wiped his face. "You're getting sloppy," he said. "That kind of cut-rate sneaking around might get you past the rest of this city, but I heard you coming a mile away."

"I didn't come here to fight."

David gave a sarcastic laugh. "Look who learned how to use contractions." He stood up straight, turned around and leaned against the bathroom sink, razor now hidden behind his back. Angel stood on the other side of the bathroom's threshold and the two met eyes. David snickered again. "I never cared for that voodoo doll look Wayne stuck you in, but this is far more ridiculous. What the hell are you supposed to be?"

"An angel," Cassandra said.

"Well, curiosity is killing me on this, but I've got a job to do." As he spoke, David slowly slid another hand behind his back toward his bag of toiletries. "What do you want?"

"You were set up," Cassandra said. "Lured here, he wants to kill you."

"A sting, huh?" David raised an eyebrow. "Why should I believe that? Who other than your boss is out to get me?"

"Lipov."

The look that taunted Cassandra faded after her response, Cain's face became hardened. "Lipov? Why do you know that name?"

"He attacked me, said he wants to revenge on you."

David took it in for a few seconds before the tension returned to his body and the concentration to his face. "Victor Lipov is dead. I killed him years ago."

"I don't know if he is Victor. Maybe a brother or a cousin."

"Vic didn't have any family alive, let alone anyone who would bother avenging him. He's long gone."

"Then why would he say that?"

"I don't know. And I don't really care," Cain said. "I've got a job to do, if Lipov's ghost wants to bother me, I'll kill him again. Stand aside."

"Did he know about me?"

Cain's glare narrowed. "What?"

"Did he know you… planned to make me?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"I threw around a few ideas about raising an assassin without speech now and again, nothing else. Why?"

"He has a servant. Never talks, fights like I do."

The father and daughter shared a stare, David stood in silent contemplation. "Your claims are so absurd, they couldn't possibly be convincing if you had just made them up. But if all that is true, why are you bothering with me?"

"I want to protect you."

"You're fooling yourself, kid. I don't believe for a moment that's what Wayne taught you. You're supposed to protect the innocent, something I couldn't be further from."

"I want to protect everyone that I can. I found grace, others can too."

"You care to tell me what brought this on?" Cain eyed her up and down. "What is this, some kind of religious guilt catching back up with Wayne?"

"It was my choice." Cassandra said. "Saved a priest. He was my teacher."

Cain chuckled and shook his head. "A priest. Of course. My parents were Baptists, you know." He slipped two fingers into his toiletries bag again. "They would be so disappointed."

Cain tore another shurriken from his bag and threw it at Cassandra. One of the points grazed her cheek, Cassandra grabbed it to slow the blood. Cain closed the distance and punched her between the eyes, knocking her back onto the king-sized bed with a struggled shout of pain.

"Amateur! You let your guard down." Cain cracked his knuckles. "And that explanation of yours was pathetic. Giving a scenario too absurd to sound real was a strategy Wayne picked up from me."

Angel pushed up and took her stance. She knew there could be a fight, she had prepared herself. Yet something was already wrong, a delirium that punch, like so many before, shouldn't have caused.

Cain threw another punch, Cassandra regained her guard and blocked it. Even mere feet from her, Cain's body seemed to blur and as he spoke, his words became distorted.

"Neurotoxins," Cain said. He threw a kick, Cassandra blocked with her forearm but still felt the strike beneath her armor. "You're too persistent to tranquilize with so little, just think of it as me evening the playing field."

If Lipov intended to strike that night, he was already aboard the vessel. If Cain would not come on his own, she had to extract him as fast as possible.

With enough squinting, Angel's vision was manageable. She struck his upper-pectorals twice with two fingers, each attack forced a shout out of Cain, but he regained his composure, grabbed Angel by her hair and tossed her against the sliding glass to the patio. Some of the glass cracked when her back hit the panel.

Cain flashed a grin. "You can't hit something as small as a pressure-point when you're already fighting the toxin!" He threw another punch, Angel dodged and he regained control before his fist shattered the glass entirely.

Her father was right, she didn't really have control of her senses. Angel drew her katana and swung erratically, Cain outmaneuvered each strike. Cain raised an arm, accepted a swing and only winced for a moment.

"Dulled. Absolutely pathetic." Cain weaved to the left and forced a strike into Angel's side, between where her front and back plates of armor met and made her grunt in pain. "If you have to insist on blunt weapons, a bo would be far better. This is style over substance."

When Cain went for another strike, Angel caught him by his wrist, twisted his arm around her body and threw him to the ground. Cain yelled and struggled all the while. For a moment Angel considered strike his heart. A proper distribution of pressure could shut his whole body down, but she concluded it was too risky. She couldn't use Shiva's technique if she couldn't aim clearly. Instead she dropped her weapon, took hold of his arm, positioned herself at his side and began to twist away from his body. Cain grit his teeth and shouted, he knew enough twisting could snap his bones in two.

Cain fumbled on the floor with his free hand until he got ahold of Angel's katana. His position wasn't good, but it gave him enough reach to hit Angel on her neck and beat against her face. Angel lost her determination when a glancing blow burst open her nose, she was forced to step back and grabbed at it as blood seeped through her gloves.

Cain pushed off the floor and switched his grip to rub his twisted arm. "What do you think any of this is going to do? We're an hour off the docks, there's no way you're getting me out of here without arousing attention and you know full well this is Cobblepot's boat. His security's gonna be a lot harsher to you than they are to me."

"Then stop fighting!" Angel had tried the whole night to push out her anger, both toward Cain and the emotional wounds from earlier, but she had reached a breaking point. "I came to save you!"

"Save me from a bitter Russian ghost. Yeah, I'm sure." Cain raised the katana. "If this pickup plan wasn't so idiotic, I'd believe you set me up yourself. But I did raise you to be a fighter, not a thinker."

Angel's body clenched. "Stop it! Listen to me, one time—"

"Talk is cheap, Cassandra. Put up your fists. This is your last warning."

Angel tried to swallow her anger as she raised her fists, but there was enough to infect her battle stance with shakes. Cain would not listen to anything. Despite the haze and its obstruction, she has to defeat him.

The father and daughter battled in their stares, each, through labored breaths, dared the other to make a move.

The lock of eyes was broken with a creak at the door behind them. Both looked toward the penthouse's entryway as two men looked in on them.

"Your child comes to you with a warning and you just end up fighting with her. I suppose you trust as well as you can be trusted."

Angel looked to the door and swallowed hard in anticipation. Cain's eyes widened, his mouth went slack.

"What's wrong, David?" Lipov sneered as the Odmience stepped up to his side on the other side of the door. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Vic… you're… you're dead."

Angel raised her katana and took a tiny note of the name Cain had used. Even if the man wasn't Victor Lipov, even her father had mistaken the two.

"Yes David, I am dead." Lipov shut the door, he and his apprentice approached slowly. "Victor Lipov died years ago and I am a corpse, overflowing with demons, feeding on his residual rage." He laughed. "Or perhaps the demons came into my corpse and I sent them all away, because none of the forces in Hell hate as I hate you. Odmience!"

The masked warrior drew his blade and rushed toward Cain. Cain snapped out of his daze and blocked his first three strikes with Angel's katana. Angel threw a punch at Odmience's face, but he caught and clenched it with his free hand. Cain took a swing of his own and forced him back toward Lipov in a dodge.

Cain spoke between deep breaths. "Do you expect some kind of apology?"

"No time," Angel said. "We need to fight them."

"Thata girl." Cain glared at the two across the room. "I killed Lipov once, I'll do it again if you can handle the kid."

"Not like this," Angel said. "Still hazy."

"Fine then." Cain turned and the two shared a nod before they faced their opposition. "We'll take him together."