Talia's trip was coming to a rather disappointing end. She had been certain that Luthor had some involvement with the incarceration of her Beloved, but after meeting with him, it seemed his departure from Gotham had only been a coincidence.
That said, she did conduct some business that would tie Head Development Corp to LexCorp for the foreseeable future. There were a few promising projects in development in LexCorp's famed R&D department and she wanted to keep her eye on them. One never knew when an opportunity would arise for advanced weaponry.
But now, as she finished packing her travel bag in her hotel room, she was returning to Gotham empty-handed. This was not how things were supposed to end. She had suspicions about Luthor to be sure, but they now lay in a different direction. The way Luthor had spoken of her Beloved, it was as if he suspected or knew he was more than he pretended to be.
Though Talia respected her Beloved's desire for privacy, she did not like the way he pretended to be a buffoon for the masses. However, she could see the reason for it if someone like Luthor was monitoring you, a man with the resources and ruthlessness to take action whenever he saw fit. This was not someone you underestimated.
And though she now was linked to him, this also gave her access to the Metropolis billionaire. She was a trained spy and assassin and she would use those gifts to protect those she cared for. If need be, she would be the knife that plunged into Luthor's back.
The sound of ringing interrupted her musings. Glancing to her cellular phone, she saw the screen light up, but from the angle she was at, she couldn't read the name and number from the caller ID. In the event it was something happening back home, she needed to answer it.
Reaching for the phone on the bedside table, she picked it up and answered, "This is Talia Head."
"Good evening!" a cheery voice answered, one that made the woman want to hang up immediately. "I'm Stacy with WGKX in Gotham. I was hoping you had some time to spare."
The news station in Gotham? Talia frowned. What did these people want with her? With the way they were trashing her Beloved, she should hang up on principle. "I am a busy woman," she responded.
"We understand that," the Stacy woman said. "So I will make this as short as possible. It is my understanding that you have a relationship with Bruce Wayne."
"What of it?"
"We here at WGKX strive to get the complete story when covering the news—" you don't say, "—and we would like to better understand Bruce Wayne as those who actually know him can. Our research has shown that Wayne Enterprises and your company have had many dealings in the past."
"So you want me to what? Do an interview with you?" Talia questioned.
"If you would be willing to do that. We also have a place reserved on one of our biggest shows, the Jerri Prudence Hour for—"
At the mention of that so-called reporter's name, Talia felt a flash of anger. She wanted nothing more than to follow Damian's example and throw a katana at her. All in due time…
She shook her head. She had lost track of what this Stacy woman was talking about, and she still needed to keep up appearances. "I'm sorry, but correct me if I'm wrong: are you wanting me to join this Prudence show as one of her guest speakers?"
"Not exactly," Stacy corrected her. "Though if that is something you are interested in, I can extend it to the producers and Jerri herself to see what they think."
Talia considered this. "If what you say is true and you wish to have a voice in favor of Bruce Wayne, I believe I may be willing to join your show. Short of that, I have much to do and simply won't have the time."
"Then let me get in touch with my bosses and I will let you know what they think. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."
"Thank you." Talia then promptly hung the phone up, tossing it onto the bed mattress next to her small suitcase.
This news media, it had become incredibly one-sided. It was admirable that they would try to get new perspectives, but she suspected that isn't what they really wanted. They wanted someone that would try to defend her Beloved, giving them another target for their coverage.
Well, if that is what they wanted, then that was what Talia would give them.
And unlike her Beloved, she would not take their abuse lying down.
Ralph Connolly was a respected ADA in the DA's office. He fought for the state and the families victimized by criminals. He had a rather impressive ninety seven percent conviction rate.
And much of that rate stemmed from his nickname within the DA's office: Plea Bargain Ralph. The man used the plea bargain like a weapon, tossing out offers of moderate sentences in order to get convictions. As he put it, it was best that criminals served some years rather than no years.
As Kate Spencer, she could see the logic. How many times had criminals gone free because they couldn't convince a jury of a defendant's guilt? How many times had evidence been obtained incorrectly—be it improperly obtained, or blatantly illegal—or the arresting officer had made a blunder in the arrest? Convincing a defendant that if they took the plea deal helped mitigate those variables.
Yet, Ralph was known to give more lenient deals to secure the conviction. If Manslaughter went for five years, he offered three. If Murder went for twenty years, he did thirteen, parole in eight. Public Defenders usually jumped at the opportunity for such sentences; their backlog and caseload prevented them from performing their jobs adequately in a lot of cases, so when given a chance to get their clients off with a low-ball offer, it made sense why they would recommend them.
The system was imperfect. Didn't mean it didn't leave a bad taste in the mouth.
Now Manhunter was sitting on the roof of the house next to Connolly's. It was just her for the moment, her second night here. The first night, the entire Birds of Prey had stayed on the stakeout without anything to show for it.
Ideally, they would all be here, but they couldn't neglect Gotham just for one guy. With Batman out of town, they all had to pick up the slack, and if the criminal community found out the Bat wasn't around, they would get bold. So they needed to show that even if Batman took a night off, their lives wouldn't be easier.
So Manhunter volunteered to keep watch as the others went on a quick patrol. One of them would be showing up shortly to relieve her, though it would be the two of them keeping eyes on the house until the relief team left. Manhunter had no intention of leaving.
Part of it was that she knew Ralph. He was an alright guy; he was just using the system the best way he could. She didn't want to see harm come to him. From where she was perched, she could see light through a second story window. The light was from a television, Ralph no doubt having turned in and wanted to watch some late-night TV. He had done the same last night and would be watching for another hour if last night was any—
Suddenly, the TV turned off, leaving the window as dark as the others. Well, that seemed early, but then, this was Manhunter's second night here. Perhaps the previous night Ralph had stayed up later than usual. Either that, or he had an early court appearance and was turning in early.
Manhunter sighed. It was gonna be a few more hours of staring at a dark house. Maybe she should take up her relief's offer when they arrived.
Then, for an instant, she thought she saw a flash of light through the bedroom window. It was so sudden, Manhunter jumped where she knelt. Unfortunately, Ralph had the curtains to his bedroom window closed, so she couldn't see past it.
The vigilante gathered her legs beneath her, sitting on the balls of her feet, coiled and read to spring at a moment's notice. She listened intently for any sounds, but heard nothing but the usual neighborhood background. Crickets were chirping, a dog was barking, some wind chimes were blowing in the breeze.
The back door to Ralph's house suddenly swung open. It swung so far that it actually hit the house's wall with a loud BANG! Manhunter sprung from her perch, hurrying to the back corner of the roof she was on.
She was just in time to see a mammoth of a man exiting the building. He wore blue, its shade making him blend in with the night's darkness. There were these large, silver shoulder guards, connected to each other in the front by a chain. His face was hidden behind a black ski mask, or so it looked.
More importantly, he had Ralph hoisted over his left shoulder, one arm wrapped around him to keep him in place. This guy was big and had the strength to go with it.
Pulling out her grapple, she fired it at the closest corner of Ralph's house. The moment it latched on, she leapt from the roof she was on, swinging downwards as she released more cable out of her grappling gun. She had jumped at an angle too, allowing her to arch downward.
As the massive man stepped down the steps just outside of Ralph's back door, Manhunter landed in the yard, her feet sliding against dew-soaked grass. "Hold it right there!" she demanded as she faced the man.
The man stared at her. "Get out of the way, woman," he barked back. "This doesn't concern you."
"It very much does since you're clearly kidnapping that man," she retorted. In an instant, she pulled out her bo staff, holding it at the ready. "On top of breaking and entering, no doubt. Lay that man down and give yourself up."
The man continued to stare at her before he knelt down, uncurling his arm and dropping Ralph onto the ground. Manhunter spared the unconscious man a glance, seeing something thick and silver around his wrists and ankles. Those must have been restraints of some kind.
Suddenly, the large man took a step towards her, a weapon in his hand. "You're meddling in things you couldn't possibly understand." Manhunter glanced at the weapon and almost did a double look. That was a police nightstick, a baton in his hand. "So this is your last chance to get out of my way."
"If I listened to every criminal, the jails would be empty," she retorted.
"I'm not a criminal," the man growled. "I…am Lock-Up!"
And then he lunged at her, swinging his police baton at her. Manhunter blocked the blow, the two weapons colliding with each other, creating a sound similar to that of wood knocking against each other. Undeterred, Lock-Up pressed his offensive, swinging his baton back and forth across his body. In response, Manhunter backpedals as the towering man stepped towards her. She alternated which end of her staff would block the baton, feeling the force he was using with every hit.
As Lock-Up swung at her again, the brunette vigilante suddenly ducked down, the baton passing over her head harmlessly. She then drove one end of her staff into his abdomen, causing him to grunt, his body flinching backwards from the blow. Manhunter then swung the staff upwards, nailing the man beneath his chin, his head snapping backwards as he stumbled back.
Lunging forward, Manhunter swung downward for another head blow. However, Lock-Up planted his back foot down, his head jerking back to see her coming in hot. As her staff closed in on him, he brought up his baton and blocked her attack, holding her off easily enough.
"Not bad," he grunted at her. "But you won't beat me like that."
"Try saying that after you've hit me," she shot back.
"Gladly."
Lock-Up suddenly grabbed onto her staff with his free hand, yanking it to one side. The sudden move threw Manhunter off of her balance, causing her to stumble for a step. The man held the staff out as far as his arm would reach, which was quite a distance since he had a pretty big wingspan. That was when he thrust the end of his baton right into her stomach, Manhunter's turn to take it in the gut as she felt the air in her lungs be forced out.
Bad enough that she felt breathless as she gasped from the blow; it was worse when it felt like she got hit with a blast of electricity, a shocking current causing her muscles to spasm and tighten.
God damn it, was she getting tased?!
Flinching away, Manhunter wrapped her arms around her abdomen, only realizing a moment later that she had let go of her staff. Lock-Up dropped it to the ground, holding his baton out in front of him, the tip of it glowing a blue light. It was just like the escrima stick Nightwing used. Beneath the material of his mask, she could make out a smirk on Lock-Up's face.
His baton-wielding arm suddenly became a blur. Manhunter felt the baton strike her across the face, snapping her head to one side. Lock-Up must have performed a backswing too as she felt the weapon collide with the opposite side of her face next, causing her head to jerk back the other way.
The towering man then reared back on one foot, raising up the other. With a kick, he slammed his foot right into her chest, sending her flying back and right into the side of a small building. It must have been the detached garage where Ralph kept his car.
Unable to stay on her feet, Manhunter ended up plopping down on the ground on her ass, her back leaning against the small garage. Make no mistake, she had taken her share of blows in the past. She liked to think she had been hit by some of the best in the business. Yet, Lock-Up was a very big, very strong guy. He could hit very hard, and couple that with the tasing she had taken by that electrified baton, and it was understandable why she was gasping for air at the moment.
That didn't mean she was completely stunned, not enough to ignore the explosion of air she suddenly heard. It was like something had been fired out of an air gun, or something. Whatever it was, Manhunter suddenly found her left arm jerked to her side, pinned to the side of the garage. Turning her head, she saw a bulky, silver device around her wrist, one in which two small bolts moved into place, a locking sound being made. Staring at it for a moment, she tried to pull her arm back, only to see that she was stuck to the wall by this restraint.
"That should hold you for now," she heard Lock-Up say. Looking towards him, she saw he had a gun in his hand, one with a large barrel. Manhunter was willing to bet the barrel was just the right size for this device that was restraining her. It would explain the explosion of air she had heard just moments earlier. "Consider yourself lucky I'm not bringing you in."
"I'm not done with you, Big Boy," Manhunter growled at him.
"Maybe not, but right now you are. Unless you find a way out of that restraint, which I highly doubt you will, you're finished." Lock-Up then put up his gear, sliding his baton into a looped holster at his side and the restraint gun thing into one on his back—she assumed there was a holster for it there as his hand returned empty-handed. Lock-Up then made his way back to Ralph Connolly, hoisting him back over his shoulder.
"Wait!" Manhunter shouted at him. She had to buy some time. One of the Birds had to be showing up soon. If she could stall him for that long…
"Where are you taking him?" she demanded.
"Where he belongs," Lock-Up responded. "For too long this man has used the justice system in the way it best served him. He is a mockery of a lawyer—though that isn't saying much. I'm going to show him how things should be done, see if he can be re-educated on how murderers and rapists should be dealt with."
As Lock-Up had been speaking, Manhunter had been reaching to her utility belt with her free hand. Pulling out a couple of ninja stars, she suddenly threw her arm out, sending them flying at the man.
Lock-Up immediately raised his closest arm up in his defense. A couple of the stars hit his forearm and bounced off harmlessly. One actually stuck into whatever protective guard he was wearing. Another hit his upper arm, cutting through the material there and drawing blood.
Lock-Up stood there for a moment before he lowered his arm, glaring at Manhunter. "Do that again and I'll smash your face in with my boot," he threatened.
"Just try it," she retorted, tilting her head back defiantly.
He just stared at her for a moment before he turned to leave. Manhunter could only watch as he faded into the darkness, Ralph lying over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Damn it.
After looking through the GCPD file on the Fairchild murder, the Batclan had come up with a few leads to follow up on. Their computer was currently working on tracing the text messages Fairchild had received before her death. It was also running a query on limestone deposits around Gotham since none of them could figure out where the limestone had come from.
There was also an audio tape, but they hadn't heard it yet. It was on the to-do list for the moment. Aside from those, there wasn't much to go on. So they had turned their attention to what they had.
One of those was the files obtained from Fairchild's home computer. That was going to require sitting down and reading through the whole thing. While a computer program could find keywords, to understand the context would mean reading each and every entry. That wasn't something Batgirl was looking forward to.
But then they found something intriguing. Prior to his arrest, Batman had been looking into Max Shreck about some sort of power plant project. Batgirl was unfamiliar with this, but if this Shreck thought someone was investigating him, he would take steps to get them off of his back. Her father had mentioned just how shrewd and ruthless the man was when it came to business…
At the very least, he was someone to look into, just like Talia was doing with Luthor.
For a moment, Batgirl wondered what the al Ghul woman had learned. Considering Damian hadn't received a call yet from her, she either hadn't found anything, or was hot on a lead. That moment passed as she focused herself on the mission at hand. Slowly opening a window, she slipped into a dark room, the only light she received was from the number of windows present.
Behind her came Damian, who elbowed his way by Bluebird. There was some muttering by the latter, but no reprimand was made. After the blue-haired vigilante entered the room, Spoiler came in, bringing up the rear.
The faint outlines of Max Shreck's office greeted them. Thankfully there was enough ambient light for them to see, but they needed to be careful. They couldn't risk turning on a light and alerting any casual observer that they were here. "We should spread out," Spoiler recommended, whispering softly.
"I'll hang here," Bluebird said, posting up by the window. "You guys are better at this than me."
"Afraid you'll miss something?" Damian sneered. "Or are your eyes not all that good at seeing what's in front of your face?"
Bluebird scowled. "Shut it, S.O.B."
Damian's face pulled off a smirk and a scowl all at the same time. It was hard to tell if he was happy about his successful ribbing on Bluebird, or if he hated what his self-crafted alias had become. Obviously both.
"Can you just go look?" Spoiler asked exasperatedly. "We can't stay here forever."
Batgirl began circling around the room. She naturally found herself over by Shreck's desk, where she began opening the drawers and looking inside. Aside from the usual office supplies, she didn't find much. Checking where the others were, Bluebird had been true to her word, standing next to the open window with her arms crossed. Spoiler was on the opposite side of the room, checking around the furniture. As for Damian…he was…somewhere…
Spotting a set of file cabinets, Batgirl headed over there. Whatever the hell Damian was up to, she rather doubted it would be of assistance. He was the most useless person here as far as she was concerned. Reaching the cabinet, she opened it and began checking the files.
She went through two drawers before Spoiler joined her. Without a word, she opened another drawer and began checking the files. "Have you found anything?" she asked softly.
Batgirl shook her head. "Nothing yet," she replied before closing the drawer she had opened. She knelt down and opened a lower drawer, flipping through the files.
Unfortunately, she found nothing. Everything seemed like this was just a normal office, but it simply couldn't be. If Batman was investigating, then there had to be something, there just had to be. Letting Spoiler complete her search of the remaining file cabinet, Batgirl moved on.
Eventually, she found herself coming face to face with a portrait of Max Shreck. Coming to a stop, she stared at the man painted and couldn't help but feel weird. Credit to the artist, but something seemed off about this Shreck guy. It was almost like he wasn't human.
That was when Damian appeared at her side. "That must be Shreck," he said.
Batgirl just nodded her agreement.
"It's unsettling, isn't it?"
"You feel that too?"
Damian nodded. "There's just something…off. I know it's just a painting, but there's something off-putting about it."
So even the little brat could feel unease. "Have you found anything?"
"Nothing. You?"
"Nothing," she parroted, though she couldn't help the frustration that leaked through. This was going about as well as—
A voice. Batgirl jerked her head towards the door to the office. Listening intently, she wanted to make certain her mind wasn't making things up. There was silence before…
She heard it again. It was hard to tell what was being said since it was muffled. Unfortunately, they were growing louder.
"Out," she hissed, grabbing onto Damian's shoulders and pushing him towards the window. She snapped her fingers towards Spoiler, getting her attention so that she could point towards their exit. Thankfully the lavender-clad vigilante took her hint and hurried towards the window. Bluebird slipped out, followed by Spoiler as soon as she got there.
Unfortunately, Batgirl couldn't say the same for her and Damian.
The door opened, the voices grew louder, and with a flick of a switch the lights came on. The two of them froze for only a moment, their eyes towards the doorway.
"—what more…do you need to know?" a voice demanded, raised in frustration. A figure appeared in the doorway, their head turned away. Immediately, Batgirl and Damian headed for a far corner. As luck would have it there was a space next to the filing cabinets, one big enough for Damian to slip into and get out of sight. Unfortunately, there wasn't much room for her.
Which led her to the desk.
Quickly taking cover behind it, Batgirl remained crouched, peering around the wooden furniture as two men finally entered the office. One of them looked just like the man in the painting, whom she figured was Max Shreck. It became quickly apparent that the painter had done a really good job as Shreck stuck out like a sore thumb, even in person. "We should have the council…in our back pocket…by now," Shreck was saying to the second man, one that looked like a stockier, younger version of him. "Why…has this not happened?"
"I keep tellin' ya, Dad, it was that referendum," the second man said, clearly Shreck's son. What was his name? Batgirl couldn't remember.
The two men were walking towards the desk, Shreck heading for the side the dark-clad vigilante was peering around. His son was walking right for the front of the desk. She needed to move, but do so carefully. Pulling away from that corner, she silently slid towards the other side, moving around the corner just as Shreck walked around the opposite one. Batgirl stopped herself at its side, keeping herself crouched low. She glanced to the window, seeing it had been closed. Spoiler or Bluebird must have done that to hide their entry point, which was a good thing.
"And that has to do with what?" Shreck countered.
"It's made a lot of them gun-shy," the Shreck boy explained. "The ones we already donated to are ours; it's the ones that we didn't that are the problem. The referendum removed Hughes, who was our lynchpin."
"Hughes," Shreck murmured. "What got him?"
"Drunk Driving, believe it or not."
"Oh, I believe it. What did he do? Hit a cop?"
"Crashed into a donut shop in front of a cop. Then demanded to know if the cop knew who he was."
"...you couldn't make this up."
"Yeah, if he crashed into a bank, at least it wouldn't have been in front of a cop picking up a late night snack."
"So the referendum removes Hughes…and the others…are getting cold feet now?"
"That's right. They changed their minds about taking our money."
"How…unfortunate."
There was a groaning sound. Batgirl peered around the corner of the desk and saw Shreck sitting in his chair. Looking around the opposite corner, she saw the son doing the same, taking a seat in one of the chairs there. Great, they were settling in.
There was silence. Then, "What do you want us to do?"
"If bribes won't work, then we need to try…something else." Those last couple of words had dropped a couple octaves, making Shreck sound dangerous. "Hughes had more than that DUI arrest…a lot more. The others will have dirt too…we just have…to figure out what."
"Blackmail them, you mean?"
"Blackmail is such…an ugly word. I prefer to call it…persuading convincingly."
"What's the difference?"
"Well, one is illegal."
"And the other?"
"Isn't."
"Ah. Well, then I've been meaning to ask. Where do you plan on building the power plant?"
"I have my…eye on a few…locations."
"Wouldn't it be important to have one ready to go?"
"Ideally, yes; however, sometimes plans fall through. We may have our…hearts on one place, but a sudden change of heart…could be the wrench…that stops us. I rather…make a place from scratch."
"I'm not sure what you mean, Dad."
The chair creaked. There was a footstep and then Shreck passed by Batgirl, heading right for the window. He hadn't seen her seeing as he didn't jump when walking by. The man came to a stop, hands behind his back as he stared out of the window. Creeping around the desk, Batgirl made her way around the chair and to the opposite side of it.
"There are many areas…of Gotham that are…rotting. Decrepit, useless—an opportunity in disguise. The City Council will jump at us if we…pick one of these places."
"And the people that live in those places? Won't they resist?"
"Most likely, but who will want to live in a place with a gas leak…one that suddenly goes…boom."
The son was silent. Then he too stood up, but went in a different direction, one that brought him to the side opposite the Shreck patriarch. The son wasn't facing towards Batgirl, but she could very well see him. He went right for a table where a number of glass decanters sat, a few glasses as well. Taking a glass, he then picked up one of the decanters and pried the top off, pouring himself a drink. "Do you want one, Dad?" he called out, seemingly at the last moment.
"Don't mind if I do."
Another glass was poured, the decanter sat back down and top clinking into place. Now came a problem. The Shreck son was about to turn and get a look right at the dark-clad girl. Her only option was to slide around the corner of the desk and hope Shreck's chair was enough to block her from sight when Shreck himself turned. If he turned to his left, he wouldn't see her, but if he went to his right…
Thankfully, he turned to his left as his son approached him, handing him a glass. The two men stood at the window, taking sips from their glasses. "What are these places?" the son asked after several moments. "I can get our crews to make the leaks ready."
"It can wait until the morning," Shreck answered. "We still…need to get those votes first."
"Right, Dad."
There was more silence before the two men turned and began to leave the office, placing their used glasses on the liquor table. They left the office, switching the light off before closing the door.
Well, that was informative, and very alarming. Reaching to her belt, Batgirl pulled out a small transmitter, one in the shape of a bat. She reached underneath the desk, in the hole for the chair, and placed it. Clearly Shreck felt comfortable talking about his plans in his office. Eventually he would elaborate here as well.
She heard the sound of soft footsteps—Damian. Turning her head, she saw him emerge from his hiding spot next to the filing cabinets. "Something is foul," he whispered, his snide tone nonexistent.
Batgirl agreed, nodding. "Time for us to leave."
"Yes, let's."
Black Canary held the silver restraining device, turning it over and over as she studied it. "What…is this exactly?" she asked out loud.
Manhunter was still rubbing her wrist from where that same restraint had stuck her to Connolly's garage. After Lock-Up had left, she had called the Birds in. It had taken quite some effort to free her—and no, she didn't want to get into it.
Like hell was she going to do a 127 Hours.
"Like I told you, it's some kind of restraint," the brunette said, feeling like she was repeating herself for the tenth time.
"And who put it on you?"
"Tall guy, built like a linebacker, called himself Lock-Up." She paused. "He took Connolly."
"So this is our kidnapper," Huntress surmised, looking over Canary's shoulder at the restraining device. "He definitely knows his way around restraints. Any idea why he wanted Connolly?"
Manhunter thought back to Lock-Up's parting words. "He said something about Connolly being a sad excuse for a lawyer; he said he wanted to re-educate him on what being a lawyer was."
Huntress shared a look with Canary. "Sounds like he has beef with Connolly."
It didn't, didn't it? "Should we look into the cases your co-worker has worked on?" Katana suggested. "With your description, it will not be hard to find someone matching that description in his case files."
That was a good point. "And what about that?" Manhunter asked, jutting her chin out towards the restraint.
"We definitely need to look into this, but it's not like we have a lot of options," Huntress replied. "I can safely say no locksmith around is gonna recognize this. I highly doubt a lock company will either. I can't help but feel like this is a custom job."
"Maybe Oracle can find something?" Manhunter suggested.
"A computer hacker looking up locks and bolts? I doubt she can help," the purple-clad vigilante retorted.
"It's worth a shot," Canary countered. "We'll just have to bring it to her…wherever she is."
Okay, so chances were that wasn't going to happen. While it was most likely necessary their hacker needed to actually see this thing, getting it to her was going to be a problem, especially if she was guarding her secret identity. The Birds certainly didn't know who she was, though she did seem pretty chummy with the former Batclan.
Hmm, maybe those girls hanging out with Batgirl could help.
"We could get those girls, Bluebird and Spoiler, to take it to her. Surely, they know how to find Oracle," Manhunter said.
"That's better than nothing," Canary replied.
"You fought this man."
Manhunter turned her head, looking in the same direction as Black Canary and Huntress. Katana was kneeling on the ground by Connolly's house, her back to them. "Yeah, why?" she asked.
"Did you injure him?" the Asian woman returned her question with another question.
"I don't really remember. I got zapped by a taser, you know."
"There's blood here. I don't see any blood on you, and unless this is Connolly's…"
Manhunter perked up at that. She thought back to her fight, trying to remember if she saw blood on Connolly. Unfortunately, it was too dark and Ralph just wasn't all that important at that moment. However, she did recall her throwing stars cutting him.
"I think I might have," Manhunter eventually replied. "When he tried to leave with Ralph, I threw some throwing stars at him. I think one cut him."
"You think, or you know?" Huntress retorted.
"We'll collect a sample regardless," Canary interjected before the two women could start snipping at each other. Manhunter could feel herself bristling. "We'll run a test on Manhunter to eliminate her, and then we'll have something that places this Lock-Up guy here, so long as it doesn't come back as Connolly either.
Immediately, Katana went about collecting the blood sample. Manhunter took a deep breath, turning away as she closed her eyes. A lot had happened tonight and she was getting worked up again. Worst still was that Ralph was now a kidnapping victim. For his sake and all the others this Lock-Up guy had taken, they needed to find out where he was taken and save him.
Batgirl's movements while hiding from Shreck and Son come from the comic this story is influenced by, though not as involved. In the comic, Cassandra was darting around an active crime scene without being seen. I was hoping to do something similar, but ended up paring it down.
