I swing over to the fourth window from the right at Maroni's headquarters. I'm getting the thrill-chills at the thought of getting to take out Maroni, taking into consideration the fact that he just tried to have me killed. After Tana gave us the information on his base, we came up with out plan. We left Tana at Wayne Tower with Alfred, and Batman is keeping an eye on the perimeter for any outside activity, even though he says that it looks like most of the stuff going on is inside. It's incredibly busy on the bottom floors, he says. He wants me to get into the ventilation system to deploy bugs, so we can hear what's going on. He trusts in my abilities to get in and out quickly and silently. And if I need help, I have the button on my utility belt that sends out a distress signal.

I shiver as I cling to the window frame, scoping out the corners of the room through the night-cooled glass. Then, I push the window experimentally to find it loose and swinging. The latch looks like it was broken from excessive use. I climb in and drop to the floor, feet hitting the degrading concrete. I'll have to make sure that I don't kick any around or track it into the wrong places. But the vent in this room is too small for me to enter, so I check the corners again and go to the door to find it locked.

This doesn't alarm me, because it's easy to get through a locked door, but it surprises me. There's nothing in this room of value; it's completely empty. Maybe all unused rooms are locked, around here. I get out my tools and start to pick it, despite the fact that it was never my best skill. I'm starting to get a headache by the time I hear it click.

I stand up and realize that it's not a headache, that I feel lightheaded.

And I notice a slight ripple around the vent before I black out.

Tana knocked on her door. "Alfred?"

It only took a few minutes for the Englishman to reach her door. "Yes, Miss Drader?"

"Um… I was wondering if I might have a glass of water. I haven't drunk anything since lunch yesterday."

"Right away, Miss."

A few minutes later, the door opened, and Alfred entered, glass of water in hand. He was cautious, but found Tana sitting on the bed, covers rumpled. Closing the door and crossing over to her, he handed her the glass. "Have you slept?"

"No. I've tried, though."

"You should try opening the blinds and looking at the lights of the city. It's always calmed me down."

Tana sipped the water and looked at him, inspecting his impeccable coattails and pristine white butler's gloves. It had always interested her, the concept of a butler. Someone who willingly put himself at the beck and call of others. He had so many other options, and he chose to tend to the needs of the Dark Knight. Why? "I wish I could see the stars, though. I've lived in Gotham my entire life, so I've never seen them. The city doesn't calm me down because I remember what's in it." Finishing the water, she handed the glass back to him. "Thank you for everything, Alfred. I'm sorry."

He smiled at the girl sitting before him. "There's no harm done, Miss Drader, other than a broken window. Is there anything else you require?"

She shook her head, swinging her feet up onto the bed and putting her back to him. He'd turned away and was halfway across the room when the blow caught him across the back of the head, knocking him out. He hadn't even heard the covers rustle.

Tana caught both the glass and the man before they fell. Quickly pulling Alfred up onto the bed, she yanked the bottom off of one her boots and pulled out the lump of clay and packet of specialized gelatin that she carried. After taking a mold of Alfred's thumb, Tana made a gelatin print and stuffed the clay back into the boot. Once she had her boots on, she ran to the door, and looked back at Alfred lying on the bed.

"I really am sorry," she whispered, before taking off down the hall to break into the Batcave and retrieve her possessions before making her escape.

Batman was uneasy. Robin was supposed to have reported by now. But there had been no commotion inside—no sign of a struggle. Maybe he was just being cautious. But he wasn't about to take that chance. He opened a channel. "Robin? What's the delay?"

Batman froze as an unfamiliar voice answered. "I've been waiting for you to finally call. I can't figure out how to work this damn thing, and your little sidekick isn't in any kind of shape to tell us. You listen to me, Batman. This is Sal Maroni, and if you want to get your little buddy back, you'll surrender yourself to us."

"I should warn you, Maroni, I don't take well to threats."

"No? Then take well to this." Batman heard Maroni shout something to a person nearby, which was followed by a thud and a cry of pain. Unmistakably Robin's.

"What I meant by that was that if you hurt him, you and all your men will pay in kind."

"Yeah? Well, make us pay fast. I'm well-guarded, Batman. You have twenty-four hours to turn yourself in, twenty-four hours that aren't going to be very easy on your friend here. It's your choice." There was the sound of an earpiece being dropped to the floor, before the line went dead. Batman clicked his off. They had Robin. He had to act fast. But the problem was that they'd taken Robin so easily, like—

Like they knew they were coming.

He knew that he didn't have a lot of time, but he had to come up with a plan of attack.

And make sure that Alfred was all right.

After blacking out, I almost came to at one point, only to be punched in the face and returned to the void. Now, finally, I blink, trying to focus on the room before me. All the while, my head is spinning, trying to figure out how we let this happen. Nothing clicked when I hit the floor, no detectors blinked, no vents hissed, nothing that I had done in that room had triggered the defenses. It had already been full of gas.

The first thing I hear is chuckling. When I shake my head and finally snap out of the fog, I can see a tall man in a white suit standing in front of me, laughing, who can only be Sal Maroni. "That's right, squirt. It's not so hard when we know you're coming."

I realize that I'm hanging by my wrists, and I panic for a moment before I realize that I'm still wearing my mask. Why wouldn't he unmask me?

Either Maroni is a mind-reader, or he's just really good at figuring out what people are thinking. "You're still all secret because my informant put in a word for you. Apparently, she respects a person's right to the mask, since she wears one herself."

This time I'm really shocked, and I swivel my head to see a familiar figure leaning against the doorframe at the edge of the room. To stop my mouth from falling open, I stutter, "T—Omen?" But she doesn't look at me. She has her arms crossed and she's staring at the floor like it bores her, and maybe slightly disgusts her.

"She was smart, kid. She knew that she was a dead girl the moment she stepped out of Wayne Tower, so she did the only thing she could do—spy on Batman. She's been sending Morse code messages to me ever since she got into the place. You thought she was informing on me while she was really telling me where you'd be." He chuckled again. "I guess you didn't think to confiscate her boots. Sit tight, kid. Batman should be along soon to pick you up. And if he's not—all the more fun for us then, eh?" He's still chuckling as he exits the room, and Tana moves to follow before I call out to her.

"We were going to protect you."

She turns around. Before, she'd had a snap of anger, but also of sass—now she just sounds flat. Dead. Done. "Against him? Robin, you couldn't protect yourself against me while you were in Wayne Tower."

"How did you swing that, by the way? Not revealing our secret identities?"

"I said what everyone else knows. Bruce Wayne is a friend of the Batman's. After I was taken inside by Bruce, I was taken to the Batman to inform on Maroni. It wasn't that hard. Robin, you have to understand—even if Maroni is in jail, that won't stop him. I can intimidate him and his men on a daily basis, but you can't walk away from something like this unfinished. If he's absolutely certain that killing someone is necessary, he'll go through any means to do it. I did this because I want to live. I know it won't mean anything, but I'm sorry."

"If you were actually sorry, you'd help me get out of here."

"I'm not that sorry."

Before I can say another word she's gone. After a couple moments thrashing, I realize that there's nothing I can do. My utility belt is on the other side of the room and I can't even move my hands. I'm stuck, and if Batman is even close to smart—it's going to be a long wait.