Formerly known as Powers Stadium, Gotham's KnightLife Studium was an enormous structure that when the hometown team, the Knights, were playing, it was filled to the brim with fanatical fans. When they weren't, it was empty as a ghost town. Just a giant, donut-shaped building with an equally massive, empty parking lot.

It was here that Tough Tony had picked for the meet. A logistical nightmare for anyone wanting to set up an ambush, or a raid. Perhaps this was why Bressi had picked it.

From sight alone, Bane had picked up on this. Bressi, or Tough Tony, was a smart man. Perhaps he could find a use for him once he had consolidated his grip over the city. That he also recognized his position and sought to bargain was another example of the man's intelligence.

They were to meet in one of the luxury boxes, the places where those with the financial means would watched the sporting events below, separate from the common people, and catered to. It was a space designed to be cut off from the rest of the world, hidden away from prying eyes.

Still, it was best to scout the area first anyway. Talon was circling the stadium overhead while Bird kept his eyes on the iPad he held, magnifying the image on the screen at certain intervals. While the Gotham native engaged in his task, the rest of his men sat on standby, awaiting Bane's command to leave their vehicles and enter the building.

They were parked a block from the stadium, keeping out of sight just in case. After the attack from the ninjas, it was best to be cautious. Who knew when this new enemy would strike next?

"All clear. Nothing in the parking lot and nothing on the field besides AstroTurf," Bird reported as he turned the device off. "Nothing on anybody in the building, but there's got to be if Tough Tony is there. No way he's going anywhere by himself."

"Security, then," Zombie summed up. "Probably owns them himself."

Ideally. Nevertheless, he was here for a reason. Either he would leave this place with greater power over the city, or with someone's head along with that power.

"Start the car. We are going ahead," Bane ordered.

There were two cars that pulled into stadium's parking lot. Suburbans, both of them. They pulled up to the south entrance, exactly as they were told. Two men in security uniforms watched the vehicles, and when the group of men pour out, they began unlocking the closed gate.

Among the men was a monster of a man with a very prominent mask over his head. Watching through a pair of binoculars, the GCPD officers hiding in a closed store observed through the storefront window. With the building kept dark, the officer had only the streetlights on the side of the road to give him any light.

Holding a radio to his mouth, he said, "Our guy's arrived. Has nine hostiles with him. All are armed."

The undercover officer said no more, continuing to spy on the targets. This was going to be it.

Bane's booted feet clomped through the concrete hallways and into the elevators. One of the security guards manning the south entrance was leading them to their destination, the other remaining to keep an eye out for any possible disruptions. Not all the men he had brought in could fit in there, so he left them with orders to remain and keep watch.

If necessary, they would remain behind and secure an exit should this meeting end in disaster. In case of a trap, it always paid to keep someone on the outside.

The doors to the elevator opened and the guard took point, leading the small group down a luxuriously designed hallway, carpeted and decorated with sports memorabilia and images. None of it impressed the masked man, or held any meaning to him.

Reaching a door, the guard opened it and entered first, holding it open to them. The courtesy was wasted; he had to turn sideways and enter shoulder first due to the fact that the width of his shoulders was longer than the doorway itself.

To his displeasure, he found the box suite empty, absent of any Tough Tony. There was a view of the fifty yard line, but like the earlier courtesy, it was wasted. He cared not for it and turned to the man who was unfortunate to be his guide.

"Where is Bressi?" he demanded. Picking up on his ire, Bird and Zombie leveled pointed looks at the security guard and his armed mercenaries tightened their grips on their guns.

"Mr. Bressi will be with you shortly. I was told to tell you to make yourselves comfortable while he finishes with a dispute. Some workers with trash collections are making some noise and he needs to handle it," the guard explain, doing an admirable job of not showing any sign of fear.

"Why are garbage men more important than being on time to a meet you set up?" Bird quipped, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It was last minute and if things are to proceed without incident, he needs to make sure no one's making a racket while his back is turned. He'll be here to see you shortly." Without waiting, the guard closed the door behind him, leaving the group of men shut off from the rest of the world.

Bane, however, was not keen to waiting. Instead, he was focusing on the man's words. For a low level employee, he was very informative about the inner machinations that his employer was engaged in. Why would a man employed for security be aware of labor disputes? Specifically, ones that did not involve security?

"Freaking figures. Sounds like someone's trying to milk a little more cash out of this cow," Bird grumbled as he wandered over to the large window, gazing at the field below. "What I wouldn't do to see the Knights play from up here," the blonde man murmured to himself.

Directing his attention away from Bird, Bane found along the far wall was a buffet, various trays of food displayed, some of which were still steaming. Almost as if they were freshly cooked and place out. Two of his mercenaries had found it, one of them grabbing of handful of what appeared to be pigs-in-a-blanket and stuffed them into his mouth. As he chewed, he spoke, commenting on the tastiness.

It was almost as if someone wanted them to be comfortable. Too comfortable.

"I don't like this," Zombie commented it. "It was this Tough Tony who was desperate to meet us. Why now postpone?"

That settled it.

"We're leaving," Bane announced turning towards the door and already making his way to it.

"What? But we just got here!" Bird exclaimed as he snapped his head around to gape, clearly caught off guard.

"This is a trap," he stated, grabbing the door handled and turning it.

"Here?!" Bird was dubious, but he was already making his way over. "Who the hell would try to trap us here? The place is huge!"

By now, the three armed mercenaries had hurried over and were stepping out into the hallway. Bane continued, "Which is what they want us to think. They want us to—"

"YOU'RE UNDER ARREST! PUT YOUR GUNS DOWN AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!"

There was a shout in Spanish followed by gunfire. Bane ducked back as bullets struck the door frame and the door itself. Both Bird and Zombie were crouching to the floor. The mercenaries were gunned down, their bodies falling to the floor with wet thuds. They hadn't stood a chance and had done nothing to the threat outside.

"They got us trapped in here," Zombie stated. "They didn't have to secure the whole place, just a small portion of it."

"Fuck!" Bird swore. Pulling out a radio, he began issuing orders into it, but received no response. It appeared that the men left behind were either dead, or captured.

This was indeed an ambitious operation, well thought out and highly efficient.

"SURRENDER YOURSELVES! WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!"

The shouting gave it away; it was law enforcement. To think that the GCPD would recover so quickly from the raid on their jail. This had not been planned for. If anything, he had assumed they would cower, much like the authorities in Santa Prisca had, and wait for when he attacked them next. There was a cunning strategist among their ranks.

Meanwhile, Bird had crept over to the opened door and did his best to peek around the door frame. The seconds passed slowly, then the blond American swore and pulled his head back as several bullets pelted the doorway, scattering splinters. Hurrying back, his report was anything but ideal.

"They got guys in riot gear, shields and all, and freaking machines guns. They're armed for war! They got both hallways covered. No way we can go out and not get ourselves killed."

"They have us pinned," Zombie concluded.

It was so obvious now. Devious, but so obvious. The location was a Trojan Horse, a means to convince them into lowering their guard. With Bressi as bait, Bane had to admit he had been lured in with the promise of more power over the city. The timing had only served to make it seem less of a trap; the sooner Bressi had contacted him, using the strike on North Gotham as justification, the less likely he would have been suspicious.

Played to perfection. Had he been a lesser man, he would give in to these impossible odds and do as the GCPD officer commanded.

But he was Bane; he was no mere man.

"What do you have?" he said, his question less asking and more ordering.

"Talon's on the outside; fat load of good that bird will do us in here," Bird groused.

"Other than my knives, which I doubt will be enough to get us past all those fully armed and armored police officers, I do have a smoke grenade," Zombie said, pulling out said grenade. "I've been carrying one on my person since my run-in with those costumed women."

"It will serve," Bane declared as he reached towards his arm-mounted Venom feed, his finger and thumb placing themselves on the dial.

Petit had to hand it to Gordon; the man was a smart son of a bitch.

At first, the SWAT commander had his doubts about using the KnightLife Stadium for their ambush, but then the Commissioner had explained why it was perfect. Color him surprised that Bane literally walked in without raising a stink until he was put in that box seat. Might as well put himself on a silver platter.

Taking care of the men left on the ground floor had been a cakewalk. His men had snuck up on them and nabbed them all. Made sure none could radio in and spoil the operation. Things got a bit close when their target got spooked and made an attempt to leave, but now they were the ones in control. Chalk one up for Gotham's finest. They just bagged the son of a bitch who was making a mess of their city.

"THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!" he shouted. "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD, OR WE'RE GOING IN THERE. WE WILL SHOOT TO KILL!"

With a large riot shield strapped to his left arm and a machine gun held around it, Petit took a step closer to the box suite. He was going to edge his way closer until he got a good look into the room itself. They'd have nowhere to hide and if they didn't want to be gunned down, they would surrender—one way or another.

The SWAT commander came to an abrupt stop as he spotted a small canister fly out of the room. Smoke billowed out from it, filling the hallway in no time, taking away visibility. That he wasn't coughing meant it was a simple smoke bomb and not something more effective, like tear gas. Still, no way would he go forward until he had a clear shot.

Then he heard a loud snapping sound. The next thing he knew, the door to box suite swung around far from what its hinges allowed. He found himself falling back as the force throwing the door was too great for him to remain on his feet.

Then there was the sound of something crashing through the wall.

With a boom, Bane tore through the wall like it was made of paper, sheetrock and plaster scattering everywhere. With the smoke as his cover and a door serving as a distraction, the empowered man charged down the hallway to his left. Immediately he encountered the resistance of the shielded police officers.

However, that resistance was similar to the wall. With Venom running through his veins, they fell apart easily. The first officer was thrown to the floor the moment Bane's shoulder rammed into him. The man stood no chance at recovery as the masked man's booted foot stepped on his shield, the hardened material cracking instantly with a spider web's pattern of cracks. If you listened closely, you could almost hear someone gurgle, blood flooding a throat.

The next officer was forced into a wall from a casual backhand, his body cratering the surface. Another shared a similar fate only the wall held behind him. Bane, however, ripped the man's shield away from him, along with his arm, and used it to protect himself. He now had no fear for gunfire from the front now.

As for the armored and heavily-armed men before him, whether they were trampled, or shoved to a side, they all fell before his might. Liquid fire burned through his body, enhancing his strength, his speed, and his will. Though his body had increased in mass, the power he felt made it null.

Behind him, Zombie and Bird followed after, doing their best to keep up. They would try, but fail. Instead, they would make sure that the rear was covered. The smoke cloud would only last so long and the diversion with the door would keep the officers behind them busy for a shorter amount of time. Snatching up a gun from one of the trampled men, Bird began giving them cover fire.

Eventually, Bane cleared the hallway, yet did not stop charging. His sharp eyes searched the never ending hallway, only stopping once they spotted a sign with an arrow. That arrow pointed in the direction of the stairs. Those would be far more a reliable escape route than the elevator, which could be shut down. Grabbing the door knob, he tore the door right off its hinges, and with a large hand he gripped the stairwell railing. With a heave, he threw himself over the railing and onto the stairs below.

His legs withstood the shock of landing on an uneven surface, but he only repeated the maneuver to the next flight. Behind him, two pairs of rapidly moving feet followed after, accompanied with gunfire.

For the moment, escape was the motive. Vengeance would come later once freedom was secured.

"Does anyone know where they are?! They can't have gone far!" Petit bellowed into the radio. He did his best to move around his fellow officers, all of whom were either motionless on the floor, or slumped against the walls. In a couple case, they were actually in the walls.

"We have no visual on the suspects."

"They're not in the elevator. Checking the stairs."

"Belay that. I think they took stairs. The door's on the floor; they had to have come through here."

"Where are you?!" Petit could feel his frustration growing, but he wasn't about to lose his cool now.

"Ground floor, Commander. Wait—I heard something."

"I have a visual on the suspects. They just broke through the west gate. They're heading into the city!"

"Someone stop them! Shoot them! Don't let them get away!" Petit roared, slowing down as he came to a stairwell, the door missing. A look would tell you that he was fixated on the stairwell railing, which was crumpled and twisted from a very prominent hand-shaped dent in it.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to catch the target, the SWAT commander turned back and returned to his men. Christ, they looked like a semi had run through here and not a very large bastard in a mask. He could hear the groans and he knew that they were going to need some medical attention.

All this, and the bastard they were chasing was getting away.

Goddamn it.

There was a different atmosphere in the Bat-bunker. It was in stark contrast to the depression the vigilantes had felt following their encounter with Bane.

The monster man, though tough, had been taken down by them—all of them. Each person had a hand in some form or fashion and every effort had been necessary for their victory. It was a little gratifying to be honest.

Nightwing wanted to take a deep breath, but resisted the urge. His ribs were killing him, but that's what he expected considering all the effort he had put in with them still in the healing stages. No doubt he would require more time before they were in better shape.

A glance around the room told him that everyone seemed to have the same perspective on the fight as he did, though each one specific to each person. Take Katana for instance: she was holding onto her sword rather tightly, resting the weapon in her lap rather than letting it hang from her hip. The table blocked his sight, but considering the Asian woman had both of her hands beneath the table, he could only assume that she was gripping onto the sword tightly. She had been like that ever since the monster man had tried to break it.

And speaking of breaking. Looking to Manhunter, she looked rather peeved. She had been taken out of the fight early, thanks to one hell of a punch. While she had blocked the blow with her staff, her state-of-the-art weapon was out of commission. She had tossed it into a corner after she had further inspected it. "Well, that's the end for that one," she had bitterly said.

Black Canary and Green Arrow didn't look any worse for wear, though they were clearly tired. They seemed content with the result. The same could be said for Huntress, who was lounging in her chair.

As for the Batclan, they were all practically preening. Tim was holding himself straighter, a lot more confident. Nightwing had to admit, his old partner had really improved himself since his move out west. Last year, the younger male wouldn't have done half the stuff he had done tonight.

Bluebird and Spoiler were sitting pretty much the same as Red Robin. In fact, they seemed energized by the encounter. True, they hadn't taken the brunt of the monster man's attacks, but they had served their purpose well. Even Jason was buzzing in his seat having served well in the fight. Though he did have his hand wrapped in a bandage thanks to nearly breaking it against the monster man's stomach. Apparently it had been like punching a wall.

However, despite the fight, there were questions floating around, the main one being where this thing had come from. It had just shown up out of the blue and began trashing downtown. It was obvious it was out of its mind, no question there. They were going to need some follow up on that and soon.

Nightwing shook his head. Everyone had been pretty much been sitting at their meeting table, waiting for someone to break the ice. The Batclan was deferring to the older vigilantes and they in turn were content with their own musings. This would not do at all.

So he decided it was time to start things. "We had a good night," he started, earning himself the attention of the room. "It was a big improvement over the North Gotham attack."

"Damn straight it was," Jason agreed. "We took that big bastard down!"

Thanks for the commentary, Jason, Nightwing mentally thought.

"We got lucky," Huntress spoke then. "That monster was a walking wall of muscle; your hand speaks to that point. It was luck that Robin over there figured out to go for his knees and stuff."

"Red Robin," Tim coughed into his hand.

"That said," she continued, ignoring the young man, "being lucky is a hell of a lot better than not."

"What I'd like to know is where it came from," Manhunter interjected then. "It's not like it was walking around, minding its own business, and then suddenly began smashing things. No way this was kept under lock and key until now."

"I might have an answer for that."

Nightwing perked his head up at Oracle's words. He had to admit, she was starting to pick her segways well. As a light began to glow from the center of the table, an image appeared in midair. It was of a map of an ocean with a lot of small looking islands.

"As you all know, I've been trying to find some intel on Bane," the hacker told them, earning several nods from the vigilantes. "And I've got to tell you, I've been having a hell of a time."

"Not exactly something we want to hear," Huntress muttered.

"I did manage to find something though," Oracle continued, not the least bit taken back by the purple-clad woman's words. "It turns out, Bane comes from this little island out in the Caribbean: Santa Prisca. It's a small island, so not many people know about it, but it's your typical South American Dictatorship with frequent military coups.

"However, what makes Santa Prisca stand out from all its neighbors is that it has a rather infamous prison there: Peña Duro. From what I could find out, it's a hellhole, where the worst of the worst go for life. There are no parolees or light sentences; this place is death row for all, just without the executioner."

"Well, this sounds like a nice place to visit," Green Arrow remarked as he leaned forward in his chair. "Can't wait to go for the beaches, the island girls, and the bloodthirsty convicts."

Jason chuckled at that, causing Nightwing to eye him for a moment.

"Unfortunately, that's about where I start running into a dead end," Oracle admitted then. "I got hit with all kinds of firewalls and anti-hacking programs. Now, everyone has some sort of software to prevent hacking; with these guys, it was the same as trying to hack the Pentagon. In fact, it's pretty much the same anti-hacking software the Pentagon uses."

Green Arrow frowned. "Did you try hacking the Pentagon?"

There was a small silence, one Nightwing interpreted as a "yes, but I'm not proud of it." He could practically imagine the redhead squirming in her chair. "Regardless," she said after awhile, "I did manage to find a couple things when I did some cross-checking. Tell me if you recognize either of these guys."

Suddenly, the map of the Caribbean vanished and was instead replaced with mugshots. One was of a blond-haired man and the other a bald guy. The blond man had a busted lip and looked as if he had been in a scuffle. The other one looked as if he were the walking dead, his eyes sunken in.

"That's Zombie!" Manhunter exclaimed as she shot out of her chair, pressing her hands onto the table. "That's one of Bane's lieutenants!"

The image of the bald man enlarged then, causing the blond man to shrink into the background. "That's right," Oracle informed them. "This man is only known as Zombie. I found records of him being incarcerated here. He was there on drug and murder charges, primarily of high-powered targets. His preferred method was with knives."

"That's a big shocker," the brunette muttered.

"But get this: many of his victims had a poison found in their systems. When I looked further, I found the poison is native to Santa Prisca and the surrounding islands. So when taking the poison and the people he's killed, that would've landed him right into Peña Duro."

Okay, that was one guy they could link to the same island Bane was from. "What about the other guy?" Nightwing questioned.

"Now this guy was easier to find stuff on. His name is Bradley Colossimo and he's right out of Gotham City. Believe it or not, he was a lawyer for the mob. Did a lot of work for Jimmy 'No Nose' Novak, and helped out a time or two with some defense teams for Falcone himself. Then suddenly he vanished right around the time Batman showed up. Turns out he got himself into some trouble with Falcone and was ran out of town. He popped up on the grid from time to time, but then he got into some major trouble with the drug trade in South America and was last seen being taken to—you guessed it—Peña Duro."

"That places both of these guys in the same place," Black Canary said. "They could've made friends there potentially. And Bane would've been placed there too considering the things he's done. So we have all three rotting away and...then what?"

There was a pause. "Well, that's where the firewall stuff comes in. A big reason for it was that I believe the U.S. Government is involved. When I tried to get into Bane's file, the firewall came crashing down. That's the only reason I even know Bane was in the same prison."

This time the vigilantes were quiet. "Umm, how is the U.S. involved?" Spoiler asked weakly.

"It took some time—a lot of time actually—but I came across something called Project Gilgamesh. It was a project to make this compound, a super-steroid I think it's called."

Green Arrow frowned. "Are you talking about that Wayne-Queen venture? The one with that super-steroid they made?"

"Not exactly," Oracle replied. "This was in the works before those two companies came together. The government was trying to find a way to make a bigger, stronger soldier and they believed super-steroids were the key. They eventually came up with one too; it's called Venom."

Well, that was a catchy name. It also sounded a bit sinister too.

"And it's with this Venom stuff that the U.S. and Santa Prisca come together. They formed a joint venture to test Venom on human subjects—with the U.S. supplying the steroid and Santa Prisca supplying the test subjects. Guess where they got them."

Huntress perked up at this point. "Don't tell me; they used the prisoners at Peña Duro."

Nightwing didn't need Oracle to confirm that; it was pretty obvious it was true. "Guys, I think we need to learn more about this Venom stuff. Oracle: what can you tell us about it?"

"Not much, honestly. No matter where or how I searched, there is nothing other than the name I could find. Since two governments are involved, I can only imagine it has something to do with military purposes."

"And those aren't exactly peaceful entities," Green Arrow added. "I'm starting to think we're going to need to learn more about Venom and the only place we're going to do that is at Santa Prisca."

"Hold up," Manhunter interjected. "You're saying we need to send someone to that island? As in one of us going? No way, that's just a bad idea. We can't just send one person all by themselves."

"Then we send two," Green Arrow countered. "Three if necessary."

"But that will hamstring us here. We can't afford to send up to a fourth of our forces to a place as dangerous as Santa Prisca. Not while Bane is up here doing everything he can to turn Gotham into his personal feudal domain."

Now that was a problem. While they needed to find out all they could about Bane, Venom, and Project Gilgamesh, they couldn't purposefully weaken themselves to do it. It was a Catch-22 scenario.

Of course, that's when a solution was presented.

Red Robin cleared his throat, earning himself the attention of the adults in the room. "I might have an idea," he spoke up. "I know some people that can go to Santa Prisca and do it safely. I'll have to go with them to keep them in line, but we can get the intel we need."

Almost promptly, the red-clad vigilante winced, though it wasn't because he felt like he was speaking out of turn. No, Nightwing knew that look all too well; it was the one the teen made when Barbara was verbally tongue-lashing him and loudly at that.

"Who are these people?" the older man pressed, hoping that would give Tim's poor ear a reprieve. For several seconds, the teen didn't respond, that same wincing look on his face. However, he did eventually answer. "It's a bunch of guys I meet out in Jump City. Each one is a powerhouse in their own right and we helped each other out not too long ago. We were actually talking about coming out here before Bane took over. I can call them at any time to get them moving."

"Can we trust these guys?" Huntress questioned. "They're not going to get themselves killed doing this, are they? We're not going to send them into a firing line just for the hell of it."

"Trust me, they can take care of themselves." Then Red Robin added under his breath, "They're in more danger of each other than anyone else."

"I say you call them in then," Green Arrow said then. "That should cover our 'safety in numbers' concern."

"Are you sure they can protect themselves?" Huntress pressed. "You're going to have to tell us a little more than just that they can."

Red Robin pondered this for a moment. Then he sighed. "Not too long ago, we all joined up to stop this religious cult guy. He had been gathering teenagers off the streets and making them into his own personal army. In fact, he was going to use one of them to open a portal to some other dimension, or something. Oracle has all the details on file if you need more."

Huntress stared at him. Then, "I second calling them in."

"Third," Nightwing chimed in.

"Are you positive these guys are good?" Manhunter questioned. "Since you're having to go with them, I get the feeling this group is pretty new and you don't have a ton of trust between you. How old are these people anyways?"

"Well, they're about my age…"

"Uh uh, no way," the brunette responded. "I'm not sending kids into a prison. Not even if they know how to defend themselves."

"What if I told you one is a walking cyborg, another has the same powers as Wonder Woman, and another is an alien that can blow up a city block if she wanted to."

There was a pause. "Are you telling me these friends of yours are like a teenage Justice League?"

Red Robin shrugged his shoulders. "Kinda."

"Then you're not going in, not without some sort of supervision."

"Geez, Mom much?" Red Hood muttered under his breath.

With this new information though, Nightwing was starting to have second thoughts on his vote. On one hand, they were kids. On the other, they probably could fight the Justice League. They would lose, cause this was the Justice League, but they could fight them.

"I'll go," Black Canary suddenly said.

That caused everyone to look towards her. "Look, we need to learn about Bane—end of story. Red Robin knows a bunch of people that can take care of themselves and would help him out if he called. They just need someone to lead them. I'll be that leader."

"Whoa, whoa, you sure about that?" Green Arrow argued. "I mean, this is your town. If anyone should go, it's me. All of you know Gotham better than I do."

"But you know how to patrol a city on your own; you can take care of yourself," Canary pointed out. "Plus, we need someone that can have a commanding tone with kids. I don't think you have that in you and Red Robin—no offense—doesn't look like he has the best leadership skills." She was now looking to the younger male. "Maybe that's changed since your move, but you've deferred to the Birds in the past and to Nightwing now."

"I get it," Red Robin replied. "No offense taken...I guess."

"I definitely feel better with Canary going," Huntress added. "And honestly, if we're going to do this, this is our best option."

"Then let's put this to a vote," Nightwing declared, attempting to finalize this plan. If they didn't do it now, then they probably wouldn't ever. Then again, maybe Tim would take it on himself to do it anyways, if what he had been hearing from Barbara about his Jump City operation was true. "Everyone that says yes, raise your hands."

Huntress, along with Black Canary and Red Robin, raised their hands. Nightwing added his own to theirs a moment later. Katana soon followed, with Bluebird, Spoiler, and Red Hood soon after. That left Green Arrow and Manhunter as the holdouts.

Then Manhunter sighed and raised her hand. "I'm not thrilled about this, but it's the best plan we have," she announced.

All eyes then turned to Green Arrow. Without preamble, he raised a hand up. "Hey, this is your town, guys. I'm just here for the ride. If this is what you think is best, I'm with you."

"Then it's settled." Nightwing looked between Black Canary and Red Robin. "You two better go get ready. The sooner you head out, the sooner you get back. Red Robin, call your friends in. Get them to Santa Prisca whatever way you can.

"And more importantly, don't get yourselves killed."