This was a big deal. Black Canary could hardly believe her ears when she first heard of it.

The Batclan had reached out to Oracle, who then reached out to the Birds. Some business tycoon was trying to do a mini-Gotham Fire and blow up sections of the city. It sounded outlandish until you remembered the rich people in Gotham weren't exactly right in the head. After all, a lot of them had been part of a secret society.

The plans were simple, or so she understood. The men attempting to blow up these city blocks were going to create gas leaks, ones that would ignite and blow up. The city would be devastated, but then promise to use the new-found space for something positive, something to improve those areas.

It was a destructive version of gentrification.

It was a good thing the Batclan had said something. According to their intel, there were seven locations. That meant they needed to be at seven different locations all at once, and seeing as there were only three of them, that left four places unaccounted for.

Right now, Canary was at one such location. It was a gas station in Englewood. It wasn't the best neighborhood, but she knew that if the gas here were set on fire, there wasn't going to be much of a neighborhood left. She posted herself right on top of the attached convenience store. While the pumps themselves were a target, the blonde vigilante had a feeling the saboteurs weren't going to be so obvious.

It was dark, the local light pollution blocking out the night's sky. There were a few cars in the parking lot. One car was pulling up next to one of the pumps as two men crossed the street, heading for the convenience store. So far, everything had been quiet.

While she hoped things would stay this way, making for a long night, Canary doubted it would stay that way.

Eyeing the car at the pump, she saw a middle-aged man get out and begin working it. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary there. Glancing to the two approaching men, they reached the sidewalk in front of the store and then began walking away from the door.

That got her attention. Watching, the two men went around the corner of the store and headed right for a concrete slab covered with small metal disks. This was for eighteen wheelers off-loading fuel. The slab was obviously for the trucks to park, but the metal disks were covers. They could be removed so that tubes from the trucks could connect and empty the gas they brought into tanks below.

Canary watched intently as the two men approached one of the covers. One of the men immediately knelt down on one knee and began to mess with the cover, most likely trying to open it. The second man was pulling out a rag from his jacket pocket.

Seeing all she needed to, Canary went for a metal ladder at the corner of the story. Swinging herself onto it, she placed her feet on the outer edges of the ladder, loosening her grip on it so that she slid all the way down. She could feel the friction between the metal and her gloves until she landed on the ground.

Hurrying to the two men, the first man had finally removed the cover and was raising a hand up to his friend. The standing man handed over the rag, then pulled out a lighter.

"Hey!" Black Canary called out as she came to a stop, placing her hands on her hips. The two men jerked their heads up and stared at her. "I wouldn't recommend doing that if I were you."

"This ain't any of your business, lady," the kneeling man dismissed her. "Get out of here before we—"

He never got a chance to finish. Pursing her lips, Canary fired a blunted Canary Cry, one that raced through the air and nailed the standing man right in the chest. The force of the blow sent him flying backwards through the air, crying out until he landed by the street. The kneeling man twisted his head around to gape at his friend as he crashed down a solid twenty feet away.

Canary raised an eyebrow. "Want to try this again?"

The man shot up onto his feet, his hand yanking a gun out from the waistband of his pants. Again, Canary fired a blunted Canary Cry, striking the gun and knocking it out of his grasp. The force of the blow yanked the man's arm back, causing him to spin around in a circle. Using this to her advantage, the blonde vigilante charged towards him, leaping into the air as she swung her leg. Her kick was perfectly timed as the toe of her boot collided with the side of his face. In fact, the force of her kick knocked the man off of his feet, sending him crashing to the ground.

Landing back on the ground, Canary immediately moved next to the man, placing the heel of her boot on the back of the man's hand. She started to lightly dig the heel into the hand, slowly increasing the pressure. "So I have a couple questions for you," she began. "Tell me what I want to know and I promise you'll get to use your me-time hand within the next week."

From the moment she heard that rich asshole say they were going to blow up her home, Bluebird hadn't been able to focus on anything else. It was her home, damn it! And her brother! And…okay, yeah, that was about as far as she was willing to go.

Let's face it, she lived in a bad neighborhood with less than nice people. Many of them had taken to tormenting Cullen until the city's hero broke some of their bones. Then she got in the game and things had gotten slightly better. The place wasn't on the verge of being some redeemed neighborhood or anything, but it was getting better. At the very least, Cullen wasn't getting bullied every day.

Yet, that wasn't enough for some wannabe real estate developer wanting to tear it down. It was clear he didn't care if the people were there or not when the teardown began. Something like this, you would think it warranted an all-hands on deck call and it had. The problem was that there were more than just one place, which was stretching them out pretty thin.

So Bluebird elected to guard her home. Cullen was in a hotel in case things went south, courtesy of whatever funds they were getting for this vigilante schtick.

It was all up to her to make certain they had a home to come back to.

She had to play this smart. The first thing she had done was scope out her apartment complex and realize there were just too many entry points. She couldn't guard them all at the same time. So, she installed some cameras with a feed directly to Oracle. They were cheap, battery-powered ones, but all they needed was tonight and they could be scrapped. With one at every entrance, Oracle would be able to pick up anyone sneaking in through a way they weren't supposed to be.

That left Bluebird to guard the lobby. There wasn't really any good place inside to hide, so she had to be out in the open. So she had taken off her mask and zipped up her jacket and positioned herself next to the elevator. Thanks to her costume, it made her look as if she were just some teen girl in a jacket and tights. That was within today's fashion standards. Unfortunately, she couldn't keep her taser rifle on her, not without looking very suspicious to all of the criminals that lived here. Instead, she had a couple of her handgun tasers, along with her trusty, last resort taser, the one she used for grocery shopping. Anything that she could hide on her person, she had.

Now came the hard part: the waiting.

There was no telling when these guys were going to show up. The blue-haired girl wished it was soon. She was getting tired of getting ogled by the guys that entered and exited the lobby. Her time spent as a vigilante had gotten her in shape and gave her a set of rather nice legs. Her costume accentuated this fact.

So yeah, she had to suffer through some catcalls. Very annoying.

Digging her cell phone out of her jacket pocket, she held it against her ear, but didn't bother to turn it on. It was all a subterfuge so she could use the comm link in her ear. "Seeing anything, O?" she asked lowly.

"Not a creature is stirring," the hacker replied. "Relax, I've got your back."

"I'll relax when this is over," she grumbled.

"You better do it now. If you're anxious, you'll make a mistake, and that can get you hurt. As much as I know you want to protect your home, your life is more important. Remember that."

Nice words, but it wasn't just her life; there were hundreds of people that lived here. No matter what the landlords claimed, there were far more people crammed into these apartment units than what was being reported, though that had a lot to do with the tenants and the landlord was turning a blind eye.

That's when she saw them. Two guys swaggered into the lobby, bulky jackets on, one with a hoodie underneath but had the hood up and over his head. The two were searching the lobby, their heads turning back and forth as if they were on a swivel.

These guys had never been here, that was clear as day. Everyone she had seen in the lobby had walked with purpose, glancing lazily around to make certain someone wasn't going to suddenly cap them while they waited for the elevator. These guys were actively looking for something.

"O, I think I've got something," she whispered.

"How many?"

"Two. They're dressed the part, but they look as if they've never seen this place before."

"Follow them. I'll keep an eye on the other entrances in case this is a false alarm."

That actually made her feel better. Bluebird made a show of turning her phone off and stuffing it into her jacket pocket. By then, the two men were heading towards a small hallway next to the elevators, one that led to a door. Once they were out of sight, the blue-haired girl pushed herself off of the wall she had been leaning on and sauntered after them. Peering around the corner into the small hallway, she saw the door was wide open and slowly swinging shut.

Quickly, she hurried to the door and passed through the doorway. She immediately found a staircase that led down, the sound of heavy footsteps clunking their way down. Slowly unzipping her jacket, she put her mask on and then slipped out her two handgun-shaped tasers. Carefully, she began climbing down the stairs.

Upon reaching the bottom, she reached a dead end, a door to her right, which was open. Peering through, she discovered a little maintenance room, which was filled with junk. It was probably stuff the maintenance crew used to maintain the building, though it was highly debatable if they were actually doing their jobs considering the state of said building. There was a folding table with a couple of rusty folding chairs off to the left, a mess of papers on the table.

Also to the left was a metal door in the wall, one which the two men were wrenching open. "Which one is it?" she overheard hoodie guy whisper.

"Doesn't matter," his friend grunted. "Whichever one we unscrew that starts smelling bad and we'll know. Wouldn't hurt to do all of them. Now stuff something burnable in that toaster."

Toaster? Bluebird pondered that until she saw hoodie guy walk over to that folding table and realized there was a toaster on it too. How had she missed that? The man reached the table and began grabbing all sorts of papers, rolling them up before shoving them into one of the openings in the toaster.

Alright, she could see where this was going. One guy would loosen up the gas line and the other guy would start a small fire. When the gas met the flame, boom, down came the building.

Fully entering the room, she held up both of her tasers, pointing one at each man. "Alright, I'm gonna have to tell you two to stop right there," she called out.

Both men stopped what they were doing, their heads turning to look at her. "Shit, we're made!" the hoodie guy hissed.

Gas line guy just rolled his eyes. "It's just a girl, you ninnie." He then reached to his waistband and pulled out a handgun. "All—"

Whatever he was going to say, he didn't get a chance as Bluebird pulled the trigger to her taser. A bolt of electricity fired and struck the man, immediately causing him to seize. It wasn't nearly as powerful as her taser rifle, but it was more than enough to freeze him in place. The moment she let go of the trigger, the man dropped to the floor, small spasms causing one of his legs to twitch.

"Holy!" Hoodie guy shot both of his hands up, holding them in a gesture of surrender. "Don't kill me, lady!"

Bluebird rolled her head to regard him. "Don't kill you? You were just about to do that to all of the people that were living here. So why shouldn't I deal out what you were about to dish out?"

"It ain't personal, man! It's just a job!"

Bluebird squeezed the trigger.

Hoodie guy took the shocking bolt right in the chest, his whole body stiffening as he stood ramrod straight. His eyes were bulging, teeth clenched tightly.

The blue-haired vigilante held the trigger perhaps a little too long, but she found she didn't care. Eventually, she did stop the voltage, hoodie guy dropping to the floor. Seconds passed by before a puddle began to spread out from underneath him. Heh, looked like someone pissed themselves.

"Yeah, well, it's personal for me," she said, dropping her arms to her side. Checking out her handiwork, she then raised a hand to her comm link. "O, I got a couple for the GCPD. They're in the maintenance room in the basement."

"That was quick," the hacker responded.

"A few hundred volts of electricity will do that. I'm gonna keep a lookout in case more guys show up."

"Understood. Just tie up your presents so that they don't get a second chance."

Oh, like hell would there be a second chance. There had to be something in this mess of a maintenance room she could use. Worse came to worse, she'd get some handcuffs from that prostitute on three. She doubted these guys would try and blow up a building if they were chained to the damn gas line.

It had to be a sewer. Of course, it had to be a sewer.

And Huntress had to be the one to go into the sewer.

Oracle had called them with some big news. Apparently Max Shreck wanted to clean up Gotham's streets, just with fire and brimstone. That wasn't something that could go ignored. The Batclan was already positioning themselves at a few of the locations and it was up to the Birds of Prey to get the rest.

In her case, it was underneath a ghetto, where a gas line ran into the building. Couple the gas with the methane from the by-products that flowed down here and an entire city block would go up in flames.

So here she was, trying to locate where the access to the gas line was. She thanked God that she hadn't gone through with a costume change yet. She had been considering a new look, one that showed off her abs, a bit of thigh; it was definitely a summer look. That costume would expose too much of herself to the grime and shit that was down here, so she was thankful she was still in neck to toe coverage.

Still, she would have preferred not to be down here.

As she approached an intersecting tunnel, there was a flash of light. Pausing, she listened for sounds, picking up footsteps. Silently, she glided down the grime-covered pathway until she reached the corner.

Peering around it, she spotted three men, all dressed in appropriate attire for the sewer. They even had hard hats on, making it appear as if they belonged here. Great, the city was doing some maintenance tonight. Seeing the last man finishing climbing down a ladder, Huntress glanced up to the opening in the ceiling, artificial light from a streetlamp pouring in.

Alright, she was just going to let these guys go, assuming they were what their clothes claimed they were. "It's this way," one of the men grunted and began trudging through the tunnel, the other two following. Huntress moved around the corner and followed.

They made a right at the first intersecting tunnel, traveled down that one past two other tunnels before making a left. The whole time Huntress followed them. They didn't say a word at all, which she felt was unusual. If these guys were maintenance workers, wouldn't they be joking or talking or something?

"This is it," the leader grunted, coming to a step next to some pipes. They were running up along the wall, disappearing into the ceiling and ground.

"What do we do?" one of his friends asked.

"We pry up one of the pipes and get out. Once we're streetside, we'll get the kerosene. I've got a makeshift timer on it that should take care of the rest."

Alright, turned out her gut was right, these guys were definitely not maintenance. Pulling out her staff, she flicked a switch and the ends of it extended out.

It was time to get a nice workout in.

There was something strange about this place. Batgirl had heard about it, but had never really given it much attention.

Below her was Crime Alley, a place that wasn't all that special in the grand scheme of things. The crime here wasn't worse here than other places in the city. It wasn't in more disrepair than other, blighted sections of the city.

Yet, this was where her father began his mission. All of the stories she had read spoke of the killing of his parents here. As she gazed down on the alleyway, she wondered where that spot was. It had long since been cleaned up, so there weren't any tell-tale signs anywhere. It could have been right beneath her; it could have been at the other end of the alley; it could have been underneath that malfunctioning streetlamp that kept flickering off and on. She kinda preferred that last place for some reason.

Batgirl crouched on top of the rooftop at one end of the alley. While that wasn't the best location if she were alone, the fact of the matter was she wasn't. Damian was covering the other end, insistent that he be the one to protect this place.

Like she would allow him to be the one to protect a place so pivotal to her father.

It was for the best that they were at opposite ends of the alley; that way they weren't sniping at each other. She knew she had difficulty being professional when that brat was around, so the less proximity, the better.

There had been reports from the others, Black Canary and Bluebird, that they had stopped the men looking to harm the city. Anytime now, it would be their turn.

"Usurper," Damian's voice suddenly spoke into her ear via the comm link.

"Jerkface," she automatically responded.

"Your sad attempt at insulting me aside, I have a visual."

Batgirl perked up. Finally, it was showtime.

Then something caught her eye. Coming down the street in front of the mouth of Crime Alley were a couple other men. There was nothing unusual about them other than they seemed to be looking all around them. It was like they were searching for something.

"They're entering the alley," Damian's voice said. "Are you coming, Usurper?"

"I have movement here," she reported. Her eyes narrowed as the two men reached the alley and turned into it. "I have two men entering my end of the alley."

"So do I. What do you intend to do?"

"Take them down, hard and fast." Batgirl cut off the transmission and plunged off the ledge she perched on. There was no time to be careful and she wasn't in the mood to be gentle.

Down she fell until she landed on top of one of the men, her boots striking down on his shoulders. The force she hit him with caused him to cry out as he crumpled to the ground. She could have sworn she heard something break, but she paid it little mind as the other man spun around, surprised by his friend's sudden scream. He raised an arm up, one meant to offer some protection as she spun around.

Batgirl shot a hand up and grabbed the arm at the wrist, stopping it then and there. Already surprised, the man's eyes widened at the sight of her, nearly bulging out of their sockets. Before he could even yelp, she kicked a foot forward, striking the side of his knee and causing it to buckle.

This time he cried out as he dropped to one knee. With her other hand, Batgirl latched it onto the back of his head and forced him down, kneeling down as she did so, allowing her to slam the man's face onto the ground. Yanking it back up, she smashed it back down onto the pavement, a spatter of blood shooting out on either side of his head. She must have broken his nose.

Not that it mattered, his body went limp beneath her and she released her hold. Glancing to the other man, she saw him as a crumpled heap of arms and legs. He wouldn't be getting up any time soon either.

Which left the men on Damian's side. Standing up, the teen vigilante hurried down the alley, her footsteps silent. This allowed her to pick up the sounds of fighting and she picked up her pace.

As she reached the other end, she found Damian holding onto a pipe, her opponent grabbing onto it as well. Because of the difference in their sizes, the man was pushing the boy back, Damian reluctantly giving up ground. Nearby, there was a second man, lying on the ground unconscious. Damian must have dealt with him quickly, but was now having trouble with the last one.

Part of Batgirl wanted to let Damian keep going, see what he was made of. Another part just wanted to end this quickly, damn how the brat would feel about it.

Decisions, decisions…

Suddenly, Damian fell over backwards. At first glance, it appeared as if he had finally been overpowered. However, Batgirl immediately knew it was a purposeful fall. The moment he dropped, his opponent lunged forward, his eyes widening in surprise. That told her he hadn't expected it and was stumbling rather than moving in full control of himself.

The moment Damian's back hit the ground, he swung both of his feet up. HIs feet embedded themselves in his foe's stomach, his legs extending so that he sent the man flying over him. The man crashed to the ground a short distance away, the boy rolling head over feet until he was crouching on the ground.

Batgirl eyed the goon as he began to pick himself up. As chance would have it, he was only a couple steps away from her. As he pushed himself up, he stopped when he noticed her standing nearby, his head slowly rising to look up at her.

The dark-clad vigilante took a step forward and swung her other leg forward. Her kick landed across his face, snapping his head to one side before he dropped back to the ground, lying there limp.

"That was my bad guy!" Damian erupted, standing fully up as he seethed openly at her. "I did not ask for your help."

"I don't need your permission," she shot back. "He was vulnerable and I took the opportunity to stop him. If you wanted him for yourself, you should have done it quicker."

"Have you not heard of strategy? Of tactics, woman?!"

"If pretending to be overpowered is a strategy, it isn't one for me."

Damian raised his arms up, spreading his legs so that he assumed a fighting stance. "Then allow me to show you the error of your ways, Usurper."

She was not in the mood for this. There were more important things they needed to take care of. Unfortunately, his hot-headedness was going to get in the way.

It was best to take care of it here and now.

Batgirl took a step and then another, casually closing the distance between the two of them. Damian adjusted his stance as she drew near, his feet scraping across the ground as he set his feet, his leather gloves creaking as he tightened his fists.

She came to a stop just outside of his attack range. Her head perked up. "There's more," she said urgently.

Damian snapped his head to one side to look behind him. She darted forward, throwing a punch that hit him right at the juncture where the jaw joined with the skull.

It was over then and there. Damian dropped to the ground in a heap, eyes rolled into the back of his skull. Batgirl gazed coolly down at the boy.

That had been satisfying.

Raising a hand up, she activated her comm link. "Oracle, Crime Alley is clear."

Manhunter wasn't really in the mood for a stakeout, at least this kind of stakeout. She understood why it was important and its timing was literally upon them, but her head definitely was not here, not on the crack den she was staring at.

She had been watching a number of addicts stumble in and stumble out, all looking for their latest fix. Addiction was a terrible thing. Some people couldn't get the help they needed, or refused it all together. Some just liked the feeling, the rush, the euphoria drugs gave them and were searching for that feeling they had the first time they tried it.

Unfortunately, Manhunter had Ralph Connolly in her head, being hauled away by that kidnapper, Lock-Up. Ralph's face would then be replaced by Donna Grier, and then Erick Pense, and then Jeff Daniels, on a constant loop.

The restraint the Birds had obtained, they had sent to Oracle. The hacker had been leery of meeting them, so a drop-off had been performed. Katana had left it in a car somewhere in the Bowery per Oracle's instructions. Just to make certain it had been picked up, the Asian woman had checked in later in the day and it was gone.

They needed the report on that restraint sooner rather than later. There was no telling what this Lock-Up guy was up to. Torture was very much on the table. Murder was also, for that matter.

There was something they were missing, some piece of the puzzle that was eluding them. With every new kidnapping, they were discovering a pattern, one that linked each person to another. Somewhere in all that was the key to figuring out who Lock-Up was and where he was hiding.

And what the hell was he wanting with these people? So far, no ransom demands had been made. No bodies had shown up either. The primary motives for kidnapping were financial gain, or taking a victim to a second location for murder. It was entirely possible they just hadn't found this man's dumping ground yet, which wasn't something the vigilante hoped to find. With each passing day though, it was getting less and less likely that this was going to have a happy ending.

He had to be taking them somewhere, but where? It had to be a place for him to stash that van on his. His kidnapping of Freddie Jackson in broad daylight had revealed that clue. It wasn't some common make and model, most likely a custom job. How did one get confirmation on that? If this guy knew what he was doing, he could have done the job himself, which removed most mechanics.

He did know his way around locking mechanisms though. The one he had used to restrain her was proof of that, so he had some mechanical expertise.

So lost in thought was Manhunter that she almost missed what was right in front of her face. Though she was watching the crack house, she nearly missed two men exiting the building. Unlike the other people that had come here, they didn't look the least bit drugged up or jonesing. Their gaits were normal in comparison to the stumbling steps the addicts made. Some addicts were scratching themselves, a side-effect of opioid use; these men weren't. Everything just screamed that they didn't belong.

It also didn't help that they were picking up their pace.

Using her grapple gun, she repelled down to street-level, timing her descent just as they passed underneath her. Swinging a leg, she kicked one of the men in the head, causing him to cry out as he was sent crashing to the ground.

Landing on her feet, Manhunter let go of the grapple and lunged at the other man, who had jumped when his friend was knocked over. Throwing a fist, she punched him in the side of his face, snapping his head to one side. She followed that up by ramming her other fist into his gut, knocking the wind out of him.

"Oh shit!" the man she had kicked exclaimed from where he laid on the ground. He had pushed himself up enough to raise his upper body, but his head was turned so he could look at the crack house. "We ain't got time for this!"

Finishing off the man she was beating up with a blow to the back of his neck, dropping him to the ground unconscious, Manhunter put all of her attention on the last conscious man. "Oh, I've got plenty of time for you."

"No, lady, you don't—"

He never got to finish. A thunderous BOOOM! rang out then, red and orange light suddenly lighting up the area. A powerful force rammed into Manhunter's back, sending her flying through the air until she landed hard on the ground.

Owwww, she groaned in her head. She laid there stunned for a moment before she began to move stiff muscles, her head turning to—

Oh God. The crack house, it was nothing more than a cloud of dark smoke billowing up into the air. Flames occasionally broke through the smoke, but they were few and far in-between.

Manhunter had been so distracted, she hadn't noticed those two men entering the building. It hadn't occurred to her they were leaving because they had set up their bomb, or whatever they had used to destroy the building. There were people in there too. That blast would have killed them all.

How could she have let this happen?

Katana searched the skyline until she saw the smoke. It was rising higher and higher into the air.

One of them had failed, but which one? Was one of their own hurt? She couldn't tell, not at this distance. Around her, she had dealt with the men trying to do the same thing at a discount electronic store. The area was slowly failing, only small stores with cheap goods being able to survive.

She had found three men here and they had been planting a bomb. It was home-made, crudely done. The moment she had put down the bombers, she had cut the wires to ensure it wouldn't blow up.

Something felt wrong about that. Considering the intel they had received, the purpose for destroying the selected locations was to make it appear to be an accident. She failed to see how a bomb could make this appear to be an accident. Any investigation would see the bomb and know it was purposefully done.

That could be looked into later. For now, she needed to know if everyone was alright. "Katana calling in," she declared into her comm link. "I see smoke and heard an explosion. Is everyone alright?"

It took a moment before she received a response. "I'm monitoring things," Oracle told her. "Canary, Huntress, Batgirl, and Bluebird are alright. They managed to save their locations."

Which left two of them unaccounted for. "I have protected my location as well," she informed the hacker. "Do we know which location was destroyed?"

There was a moment of silence and Katana could feel herself growing impatient. This was not the time for finding answers. They needed them now.

"Looks like 78th," Oracle finally told her. That was Manhunter's, the swordswoman couldn't help but note. "I'm trying to locate Manhunter now."

That left one more location. With hers secure, Katana sheathed her sword and began heading to where she had stashed her motorcycle. "I am heading for the last one, where Spoiler is," she informed Oracle. "We cannot have a second location destroyed."

"What about your location? They could try again."

That was a very real possibility. "Have they tried at the other locations?"

"Not that I know of. No one else has reported a second attack."

"Then it was not planned that multiple waves would be used," she declared. "Monitor this location if it makes you feel better, but I will be assisting where our efforts are needed most."

This wasn't Spoiler's first solo mission and she figured it wouldn't be the last. The stakes weren't as high as that time with the Riddler, but it was important. Gotham's wealthy had a bad reputation and tonight was just the latest example as to why.

Because of the return of the Batclan, she now had some new toys to use, one of which was a pair of binoculars with various visual settings. In this instance, she was using the thermal vision, checking on the building she was sent to guard for any person there. So far, she thankfully hadn't seen anyone inside, meaning it was truly abandoned.

Of course, this abandoned building was in the Industrial Area, so it wasn't in a good part of town. Weeds were growing right out of the sidewalk surrounding the building, graffiti decorating its walls. It was because of those tags she wanted to see if anyone had repurposed the place, either for shelter or a hangout. Thankfully neither was the option tonight.

And it was because of this solitude that she noticed a couple men walking by. Lowering her hi-tech binoculars, she stared down at the two men. They didn't look like they were up to no-good, but hey, if they were, of course they wouldn't look like it. So she kept an eye on them.

As they walked along the sidewalk, they suddenly came to a stop. One of them turned to face the building, taking a knee. He seemed to be fiddling with something before he raised a rectangular window. Laying down, he then slid through the opening, vanishing into the building.

Well, that clearly didn't look suspicious—not. Pocketing her binoculars, she then pulled out her grapple gun. It was time to get to work.

Firing the grapple gun towards the building, she saw it attach to an anchor point, the line hanging a little limp, which indicated some slack. Looking down, she saw the second guy still standing outside, clearly acting as a lookout. "Here goes," she muttered to herself before she dropped from her perch. She fell through the air before her grapple line became taut. This sent her swinging downwards.

With her legs extended in front of her, the teenage vigilante flew right into the guard. Her feet rammed right into his chest, causing him to cry out until he slammed right into the wall behind him. She pinned him right there, his face frozen in a mask of pain, then he went limp. Moving her feet off of him, the man slumped to the ground, ending up on his backside as his head hung forward.

Landing, Spoiler detached the grapple claw and retracted the entire line back into the barrel. With that done, she then placed it on her belt before she went to the open window. It was at ground level, meaning there was a basement underground. Peering through the opening, she saw some strange room, one she guessed was maintenance? Probably not? Who the hell actually knew?

More importantly, she didn't see the other man in there. Crap, she was going to have to go in. Laying down on the ground, she slipped through the thin, open window, dropping to land on top of a table. Its legs scraped against the ground for her landing, causing her to wince.

"I thought I told you to stay outside!" a voice shouted from somewhere in the room. Turning her head to her left, she saw a wall abruptly end the room, a door in the corner on the opposite wall from the window. To her right, the room made an abrupt turn. No doubt her target had gone that way.

Hopping off of the table, Spoiler immediately posted herself at the corner and waited. "Dave?" he heard the man call out. "Answer me, you son of a bitch!"

After a few seconds, the sounds of footsteps were made. Spoiler braced herself, ready to attack. The moment her foe rounded the corner, she sprung into action, throwing a punch that connected with the thug's face.

The man cried out as he went stumbling backwards, losing his balance before he fell onto his back on the floor. Spoiler held her fists up, ready for him to get back up.

With a groan, the man began to push himself up, stopping when he saw her. "You ain't Dave," he spat out.

"What was the giveaway?" she retorted. "The skintight suit? The boobs? Or maybe Dave wasn't wearing lavender?"

The punk pushed himself back onto his feet and held his hands up. He didn't make fists with them as his fingers stood straight up and together, the thumbs curled into his palms. He looked like a guy trying to assume a karate stance and was failing. "I'll have you know, I'm a twelfth-degree black belt," he warned as he began to circle the room.

Spoiler just turned her body to keep facing him. "There's only ten degrees, idiot."

"Yes, there is! A girl wouldn't know it goes as high as fifteen!"

Sure, bring sexism into this. "And Google will prove your dumb ass wrong; I would know, I checked it."

"Then check this out!"

The guy lunged at her, swinging an arm high up into the air before bringing it down. It was like he was pretending to be a windmill with such a windup. Spoiler just moved an arm up, performing a high block that stopped his chop. Undeterred, he did the same thing with his other arm, which she also used a high block with her other arm to stop.

Then she counterattacked. Leaning onto one leg, she raised up the other and did a snap kick that struck the man in the stomach. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards, but this time he kept on his feet. Both of his arms were wrapped around his gut though, his body hunching over.

"Not bad, bitch," he gasped out. Yeah, the macho thing was sooo not working for him. "Now try this—"

Whatever he wanted to do, Spoiler pre-empted him. Leaping into the air, she swung her leg, landing a kick across his face, causing his head to snap to one side. He ended up spinning around, stumbling yet again, but this time he ran into the table beneath the open window, his upper body collapsing onto it.

"Oh, sorry," Spoiler apologized. "You wanted to show me something? How rude of me to kick you first."

Heh, she was liking this. All of those sparring sessions with Batgirl looked like they were paying off. Yeah, this wasn't much of a fight, but then she figured this fight was probably what she looked like going up against that girl. It felt good to be on the giving end rather than the receiving.

The goon groaned before he pushed himself up, looking over his shoulder at her. Was it her or did he actually look scared? Suddenly, he scrambled onto the table, causing its legs to rattle and scrap against the floor. He then hauled himself up out of the window.

Oh, yeah, he was definitely scared. Damn, she loved that feeling. This was what it had to feel like being a Bat. The fear, beating people up easily, she was really liking this.

Of course, that's when her nose picked up on the smell of gas.

Sniffing the air a couple times, Spoiler's eyes widened before she jerked her head towards the side of the room with the turn. That so-called fifth degree, or whatever degree black belt guy had been up to something down here—of course he had been. He had sabotaged the gas line before fighting…or rather, flailing at her.

Here were her options: one, she could go stop the leak, but she'd breathe in who knows how much gas; or two, she got out of there, called the cops so that proper personnel handled it. She was definitely leaning towards option two.

Quickly, she hurried towards the table, leaping onto it and springing up towards the window. She practically sailed through it had her waist and legs not hit the basement wall below, stopping her from cleaning sliding through. Pressing her hands on the ground, she slid the rest of her out—

Only to stop immediately when she saw karate guy standing a short distance away, holding up a bulky-looking gun. "You lose, bitch," he said joyfully.

He then pulled the trigger. Instead of a bullet firing out, a red flare shot out of the barrel, flying right towards her. Eyes wide, Spoiler flung herself to a side, dodging the flare as it flew right through the window.

Uh oh.

Only a moment passed before red and orange light flowed out through the window. Spoiler only had enough time to fling herself forwards before a giant fireball erupted behind her.

For those interested, Max Shreck's demolition plan comes from BTAS, the episode called Appointment in Crime Alley. In the episode, Roland Dagget tried to blow up Crime Alley for his own reconstruction efforts. It felt like something Max Shreck would do as well, so thus this chapter was born.