Alfred broke a dozen traffic regulations in half as many miles, the Rolls Royce's power had been raised from the factory's stated value of adequate, to more than adequate, a necessary modification given its already hefty curb weight had been increased by the generous inclusion of the latest armour, and bullet proof glass.
Rain reduced visibility, standing water traction, and the tires screamed as the stretched bespoke limousine tore towards the Park Row Cinema, occasionally sideways and into traffic.
Silver Fox rode shotgun, literally, her hands grasped a pump action 12 gauge.
She didn't say a word.
Alfred used the gas and brake to indulge in a Scandinavian flick, sliding the last corner around the Movie Theatre, whose billboard announced a special showing of the Classic Oscar Winning film Rocky.
He squeezed the expensive car down the alley past the dumpsters and between the cinema and the commercial units. Driving to where his bosses' last telephone call had come from.
They had already been on the road when Thomas had called. He glanced over at the reason he was. The enigmatic Native American, he shuddered to think what might have happened had she not been here tonight. Alfred knew Silver Fox well enough not to doubt her visions, and she had received a premonition warning of his employer's imminent deaths. A convergence of bizarre coincidences; of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and an unrelated but deadly conspiracy. Each event independent from the other; each story had a deadly ending.
Logan and the boy had left the car as soon as down town traffic had slowed his progress, using their incredible talents to make a bee line to the Cinema over the rooftops.
So it was as Alfred drove down that back alley, he saw in the beams of the cars headlights his old comrade in arms. Logan was locked in combat with a man twice his size. The giant of a man, his fat bald head shone in the lights, held the smaller man in a bear like hug, lifting the still battling Logan high off his feet. The bigger man was staggering backwards out into the alley, as Logan rained down punches on his face and body, together backing out into the rain. Alfred didn't slow down.
The Rolls Royce's hand crafted grill made contact with them both. Together the brawling men slid along the pavement, rolling together, the big man didn't let go.
"He'll heal." Alfred said to Silver Fox.
"I wasn't going to say anything." She replied as from behind her car door she aimed her shotgun into the loading area.
"Alfred." A woman screamed. "It's Bruce." Her voice broke. "He's.."
"MEDIC." Thomas called to him. Alfred pushed his feelings to one side, and relied instead on his training. Seconds later he had retrieved a bag from the car. He didn't even think about the conflicting terms of boot and trunk.
Running past downed assassins, broken assault weapons littered the floor of the loading area, alongside men who were either dead or at least unconscious, and Alfred didn't care which, the former soldier slid down beside the fallen boy. The case opened and fixing a head torch to his brow he quickly shed light on the child's condition. There was an angry red chemical burn across his face, across his eyes.
"It would have been worse." Thomas began to tell him, as he reached into the comprehensive medical kit.
"Your fingers sir." Alfred noted the burns.
"I'll live." Thomas replied. "We'd all be dead if it weren't for the Kent boy's talents."
Alfred saw Logan's ward. The boy stood in the bright yellow oilskin he had given him; he was looking at Bruce, a boy his own age, with a concerned and troubled expression. Standing guard over them all the Butler noted to himself.
Alfred didn't need an explanation. He had assessed the scene and drawn his own conclusions. His questions regarding the Kent boy and the broken and bent assault rifles could wait.
This strange boy wouldn't be the first exceptional individual to seek out Thomas' special expertise.
It was evident his employer had wiped the corrosive chemicals away from his sons eyes with his own hands. He had little choice but to let Alfred continue, saying. "See Martha, I told you employing a field medic was a good idea."
"Mrs Wayne," Alfred began using shortened version of his employer's name, "apply this cream to Master Thomas' hands please." He passed a tube of salve to the panicked mother, giving her something to do. Working quickly he cleaned and covered the injured child. In the distance, but fast approaching was the sound of sirens.
Silver Fox saw Alfred grab the medical kit. She saw the downed men, and turned to where Logan was fighting.
Alfred and the three ton car had broken the big man's right leg, yet he still held onto James. Silver Fox heard him grunt something of a greeting. "This between us."
"Good to see you're in one piece." She replied.
"How come you're still breathing?" His adversary spat.
"How about you let go?" Logan asked in a hoarse whisper, bloody froth dripped from lips.
"Never."
"Thought you say that."
Snikt, the sound was muffled, but Silver Fox recognised it.
The bigger man jerked, his face contorted in pain and anger.
"Right now there are six blades deep into your back, say the word and I'll deflate both your lungs." Logan growled.
"Stay there big man." Silver Fox stated pointing the shotgun at his head. "And before you ask James, I am loaded for bear."
Realising his position was hopeless the big man at last let go.
"Stay there and bleed." Logan spat as he slowly got to his feet, his bloodied hands showed no sign of the bone claws that had moments before sliced deep into his opponents back. His face was mask of pain, but Silver Fox knew that this would pass.
"Damn well cracked every rib, my spine too I think." Water dripped from his whiskers. He tilted his head to the coming sound of sirens. "Cops are almost on top of us." He added.
"Are you good to go?"
"Not really, but I have my wingman." James whistled, as he pulled the oilskin hood over his head once more.
Kent appeared. "We'll see back at the Wayne Mansion." James said. "Let's go." He added turning to the boy, and leaning on him. Silver Fox watched as the boy wrapped an arm around James' waist.
He then leapt up and over onto the Cinema's flat roof, carrying Logan with him.
Behind her the whine of sirens and flashing lights filled the alley way announcing the arrival of Gotham's finest.
"Looks like your ride is here." She said to the big man. "I hope you like your new accommodation."
"Whatever." The man replied through gritted teeth. "I won't be there for long. That much I promise you – and miss, Wilson Fisk never breaks a promise."