Gotham, like Manhattan, was a city known for its late-night activity, even in the business district. On this particular night, the occupants of one were burning the midnight oil. And aggravating a fiery temper.

"They did what? What?! Why?!"

"To cut their losses and prevent exposure, sir. Killing our liaison was a loss for sure, but at least this way, the Justice League will never trace it back to us."

"It's about more than that, dammit!" A fist slammed on a desk. "You don't whack one of my people without my permission! The disrespect!"

"To be fair, sir, they eliminated their captain as well to cover our bases."

"I don't remember givin' 'em the right to do the same to mine!"

"I'm just saying—"

"Shut up!"

Silence filled the room for a good twenty seconds.

"Can we salvage Liberty Island?"

"No, sir. Our contact in ZN suspects that any attempt to retrieve confiscated merchandise will result in too much exposure."

"I asked you, not those cultist freaks."

"…given the circumstances, I'm forced to concur with their assessment."

"Dammit! Not enough we have to deal with Batman and his new meta bastard; now we gotta contend with aliens and alien cops! Do you have any idea how much we spent just to set up that damn node?"

"Yes, sir. I oversaw the logistics—"

"I was being rhetorical, you troglodyte!"

"…Mr. Sionis, what do you want to do?"

Sionis was silent for a while, staring at his desk. "We can't just let this go. A message has to be sent."

"Perhaps I can help with that."

Sionis and his consigliere turned to his office door, staring across twenty yards' distance to see a man in a suit standing in the shadow of the doorframe. Neither of the door guards was visible. Sionis glared at the visitor, the expressionless skull of his mask giving nothing away.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked calmly.

The visitor stepped into his office, striding toward the desk without a hint of the hesitation and unease often rampant in Black Mask's guests. Once he was about twelve paces from the desk, the man drew an arm across his midsection and bowed slightly. The smirk on his lips was anything but deferential.

"Adonis," he answered finally. "A pleasure."

Sionis let the words hang in the air for a bit. "Uninvited guests aren't unwelcome, but they do have to pay a tax." He nodded to the guards on either side of his desk. "Nothin' big."

The pair moved in on Adonis' sides and started reaching for him. The smile never left his face. The first one to touch him got popped in the throat almost hard enough to cave in his windpipe. The other immediately reached for the holster inside his suit jacket. Adonis went for the guard's inside pocket with one hand while the other trapped his hand around the gun. That inside pocket yielded a switchblade that he kept retracted long enough to rip the guard's hand from his weapon by twisting his thumb back.

Adonis kicked out his rear leg, making him lean forward off-balance, then yanked his gun hand forward, effectively making him kneel in front of Sionis' desk. A moment after Adonis slammed the guard's hand on the desk, a click sounded, followed shortly by an ear-piercing scream as he used the switchblade to saw his pinky off. Adonis let him slump to the ground, clutching the stump on his hand. Adonis whipped a handkerchief from his jacket and placed the severed digit on it, slowly pushing it next to Sionis' whiskey glass.

Adonis smiled again. "Was it something like that?"

Sionis stared at the finger, slowly looking up at him. He was still holding the bloody switchblade.

"What do you want?" Sionis asked.

"As I said, I believe I can help you 'send a message,' as you put it." He waved to a nearby chair. "May I?"

Sionis waved his assent.

Adonis pulled out the chair and seated himself, absently toying and gesticulating with the switchblade as he met Sionis' eyes. "I represent a group you may or may not be familiar with. If you've been following the events in Star City, then you certainly know our work."

"Sure."

"Well, with this incident in New York, it would seem we now have a mutual obstruction—or a few mutual obstructions. A few months ago, the Knight nearly captured one of our beneficiaries in Star City and arrested a contractor this past Christmas. Since then, he and his friends have been making themselves…well, rather vexing, to put it mildly." He briefly motioned to Sionis with the knife. "That gives us a common interest."

Sionis let it sit for a moment. "I'm listening."

Adonis took a deep breath and looked up in thought. "One of the four in New York needs to be made an object lesson. As it stands, the Lanterns and Kryptonian are beyond you. I would say the same for the Knight—except for the fact that I can even the playing field somewhat."

"How's that?"

Adonis' smirk widened. "I assume you're familiar with Bane?"

Sionis nodded.

"Over the last six months or so, we've designed a derivation that improves upon his Venom formula in every way." Adonis left the switchblade in his right hand while his left reached inside his jacket and retrieved a small, cylindrical autoinjector. "One injection of this, and the next fifteen minutes will give your men metahuman physique: enhanced strength, speed, endurance, stamina, even a degree of rapid regeneration. All without sacrificing your natural form, weight, or intelligence."

He offered it to Sionis.

Black Mask took the vial and turned it over. "What's the catch?"

"For every fifteen minutes of use, it needs a minimum of an hour cooldown before the next dose. If not…" he started ticking off with his fingers, "rapid organ failure, skin fragmentation, heart attack, et cetera, et cetera." His smile vanished. "I'll say this: if the fight lasts longer than that, you've already lost. There's a reason the Knight can stand shoulder to shoulder with Supergirl."

Sionis nodded slowly, turning to the guard with the missing finger. "C'mere, boy."

The man limped over, still trying to staunch the bleeding.

Sionis picked up the severed finger, turning it over in his hand. "Show me."

He swallowed and obeyed.

Black Mask grabbed his wrist and pressed the finger to the stump almost hard enough to make him scream, then jabbed his wrist with the injector. Within seconds, his veins bulged with a faint pale tint, an effect that rapidly spread throughout his entire body. The man growled and stumbled back a few steps, almost collapsing to his knees as he held his injured hand. Sionis and his consigliere watched as his veins' swelling eased and breathing stabilized. The guard stood straight a moment later, staring at his bloody hand—and his fully functional reattached pinky.

Adonis smiled. "Because of its adrenaline synergy, the effects are more potent at the outset." He nodded to the guard. "You're welcome, and apologies for the finger. I had to…" he stuck out and wiggled his own pinky, "make a point."

Sionis chuckled and laid the injector down next to the bloody handkerchief. "Not a bad show, but in this business, nothin' comes free. What do you want?"

Adonis smiled. "Nothing too major, just access to your network's records and the purchase of a single item, marked down considerably. Barring that, I'll settle for you finding it yourself, but it must be the genuine article. Is that acceptable?"

Black Mask snorted. "Depends on the item. Is this 'Venom' worth it?"

"Improved, non-addictive Venom, and the chance to finally pull one over on the Batman?" Adonis waved the switchblade in Sionis' direction. "For a man in your position, I would think that worth almost anything. Especially given your…recent losses, both of which can be blamed on our 'mutual obstruction.'"

Sionis fought the urge to clench his fists. "Iles got sloppy; no skin off my back that he got pinched."

Adonis waved dismissively. "Oh no, of course. Small operation, that C-Lion, but the kidnapping that drew Knight's attention was a surefire—and very visibly publicized—sign that you couldn't control him. And now this incident at Liberty Island…" His hands splayed out. "See where I'm going with this?"

Sionis' jaw clenched. "What's the item?"

Adonis slowly smiled and retrieved his handkerchief. "Gods, I love dealing with real businessmen." He wiped the switchblade down and finally retracted it, placing it on Sionis' side of the desk. "You are so much easier to work with than Richard Dragon."

…

"Oracle, what do you have for us?"

The quiet clicks of armor snapping into place had only the backdrop of keening bats until a reply finally came over the Batcomputer's comms.

"The dental reconstruction Jason forwarded from the Liberty Island op only gave us a partial match. As it stands, we have three likely suspects—all Gotham residents, and only two have any ties, however peripheral, to organized crime."

Damian frowned as he dragged a whetstone across his sword. "Considering a decade ago, everyone in this city had some peripheral ties to organized crime…"

"Exactly. The more direct connection is a property in Park Row belonging to this man, Isaac DiNozzo. GCPD has it marked as a warehouse that's been passed around a few different hands, but utilized primarily for trafficking and laundering operations of all kinds."

"Is it still active?" Cassandra asked.

"It is. I hacked their local network and found a schedule. There's a truck coming in tonight with cargo marked 'grain products.'"

Jason chuckled. "Seriously? What's that supposed to be code for?"

"If Zirconan Nebula's collaborators are smart, they've already sold off the warehouse to someone else. It could be exactly what it sounds like."

Bruce finished charging his grapnel and holstered it. "Either way, we'll need to get on-site to delve deeper into this case. Oracle, did you find anything on DiNozzo's associates or who he might've been working for?"

"That's a fat negative, boss. More than likely, he ran everything illicit through a proxy identity. The only reason his file got flagged as priority was because he owned this warehouse."

"So this is more than likely just recon?" Jason asked.

"Correct," Bruce said. "If the warehouse has been passed off to someone unrelated, they'll have gone to great lengths to cover their tracks. We'll stake out the incoming shipment. If there's no sign of illegal activity, we'll run down the other suspect. Aside from that, without new leads from the Lanterns, this case will have to be put on hold."

Jason nodded and checked his sword and shield, retracting and stowing both. Cass was sporting new gauntlets with some built-in toys—electrified knuckles and short retractable blades housed in the hollow of those knuckles. They extended out to the sides and front in the shape of a batarang for close combat, but the thin tips of the "ears" in front could also be used as window breakers. She'd mentioned feeling at a significant disadvantage when she fought Achilles in Karbala, and again when going up against that sorcerer on the docks (who they still couldn't identify).

If they were going up against gods and monsters, she would need the extra oomph. Damian had even offered her one of his spare monomolecular swords, which she had graciously accepted. It wouldn't be coming on this run, though, especially if this turned out to be just recon. By the time Cass and Damian finished suiting up, Jason was already stretching and readying himself to follow in flight.

"You're riding with me tonight," Bruce said.

Jason glanced at him. "Me?"

"That a problem?"

"Nah, 'course not. And the others?"

"They'll follow in their own vehicles." Bruce pointed at a projected blueprint of the building. "We'll enter here, here, and here." He pointed to three points on the upper levels. "Jason, you'll be our eyes in the sky. Watch the perimeter."

He nodded. "Got it."

"If we find any signs of foul play, do not engage without clearing it with me unless absolutely necessary."

Everyone nodded assent.

Bruce retrieved his armored cowl and placed it over his face. It clicked into place and sealed a moment later. Batman had made some adjustments to his own suit over the new year to combine some of the flexibility of his on-the-go suit with the latest armor improvements from Lucius. At present, he was experimenting with prototype reactive gel armor layered over a base Kevlar undersuit. The gel layers were arranged in plates and encased in flexible silicon carbide sheaths. The largest plate was the large bat symbol on his chest, stretching over his heart and lungs.

Jason had given a little design input while struggling not to give any future tech away. The end result was a base framework for the integration of piezoelectric fabric in the outer layer—essentially turn the armor into a battery that was charged every time it was struck. It was just a framework for the moment; they didn't have the development or know-how to make it do anything. Yet.

The end result was a sleek design that was significantly lighter than his previous mainstay while offering similar protection. Jason was already considering adding some of those same design choices to his own armor, though probably a little heavier since he could afford the extra weight. Once he had a bit more of an idea of what he wanted, he was planning on consulting Kara for design advice, for both himself and Cass. In fact, the only person on the team who hadn't yet shown any interest in upgrading their kit was Damian.

Jason's helmet slid into place with a magnetic click as he joined Bruce in the Batmobile. They climbed in side-by-side as Damian and Cass's bikes rumbled to life.

Bruce tapped his earpiece. "Comms. check."

"Check," Dami and Cass answered at once.

"Check," Jason said after a second of calibration.

The Batmobile's canopy slid shut as Batman hit the throttle. Jason gripped the armrest when the whole car started shaking with the force of the car's jet engine. Ahead of them, the headlights lit up a long, cylindrical tunnel that Jason knew stretched out into the forest surrounding the manor. Well, sort of. Batman glanced through the side windows and caught a thumbs-up from the others. He nodded and released the parking brake. The Batmobile screeched off down the tunnel, its acceleration plastering Jason to his seat as he grinned. It wasn't quite the thrill of going supersonic, but damn if this wasn't the coolest car in the world.

They rocketed across the tunnel, turning slightly as it curved northward toward a water reservoir that cut through the forest. The tunnel's end opened above them, letting in a small stream of water as the ground rapidly ramped up. Batman hit the throttle once more, and Jason suddenly felt his stomach tilt as they went airborne for a good five seconds, flying up from beneath the reservoir. The car touched down on the forest's edge, flanked on either side by bikes.

Together, the trio of vehicles sped toward Gotham.

…

Considering it was already almost midnight, they reached the warehouse in a matter of minutes, hiding their vehicles a good three blocks away. Batman, Black Bat, and Robin approached the building from the rooftops, situated as it was in an old industrial park. The Knight was already posted up in a massive crane overlooking the warehouse, peering through the windows with a range-finding monocular.

"Looks like we're still plenty early," he said. "I'm not seeing any familiar faces or signs of trouble. No visible weapons or obvious hints of concealment."

"Understood," Batman said. "We're moving in."

"Good luck."

As the others made entry, Jason took to the skies, doing his best to avoid any of the industrial lights. He kept working the perimeter as the clock ticked down to the scheduled delivery.

Jason tapped his comm. "Guys, I have the truck. It's coming in from the west. Big rig, large shipment, and the suspension's sagging a bit. Whatever they've got, it's damn heavy."

"I see it too," Robin answered.

"Everyone standby," Batman said.

As the truck pulled in and the inside crew got to work opening it up, TK set back down on the crane, watching the loading bay like a hawk.

"Anyone have eyes in that truck?" he asked.

"Negative," Robin said. "Still obstructed."

A few minutes later, one of the foremen stiffened as he spoke into a headset, snapping his fingers at several others.

"Hey, what's that?" Knight asked. "What's happening?"

"Not sure," Oracle said. "I can't tap into their comm. system; it's on a separate closed network."

"And they're not talking," Batman added.

TK spotted several outlying workers scrambling for the exits. "Well something has them spooked. Maybe a rival or a boss—"

The Knight felt the wind knocked out of him a moment before a supersonic crack reached his ears. Immediately, he was plummeting toward the ground.

"Knight!" Batman shouted. "What's happening?!"

Jason coughed sharply as he reached down and pulled a crushed slug from a cracked plate in his armor. Gunfire broke out in the warehouse a second later. TK stabilized his motion and turned his fall into an arc that took him toward the loading bay. Whoever just shot him was using a high-powered weapon from a vantage point—and he hadn't seen them. He was staying as low as possible in case that sniper took another shot at him.

"Contact!" Robin shouted. "They knew we were coming!"

Knight grit his teeth. "Almost there!"

Just as he was entering the loading bay door, an arm came out from around the corner and clotheslined him. TK spun through the air, tumbling on the ground until he came to a stop against the semi's wheel well.

He started pushing himself upright. "Ow."

Halfway to his feet, Knight found an iron grip around his throat. That grip lasted all of half a second before he went for the thumb and twisted hard. A slightly taller man found his arm twisted in an uncomfortable angle. Jason immediately kicked him away hard enough to catapult him into the gateway—or so he thought. His assailant barely staggered a few steps before turning right back toward him. As TK stared, the man reached to a stack of large wooden pallets and one-handed the top one.

Then promptly hurled it at Jason's head. He ducked as it whooshed past, shattering against the semi's frame. In a split-second, there was already a knee coming for his face. Jason twirled around the strike and dropped his stance to get a grip on the man's back leg, then pulled hard. He crashed to the ground, already scrambling to get back up. Knight lunged for his neck, trying to quickly put him in a rear naked choke only to find someone else trying the same move on him.

Jason struggled and twisted his body, using his flight to wriggle free and lash out with a blind cross. His attacker tucked his arm in against the blow, deflecting it harmlessly. Knight's moment of shock left him vulnerable to a counterattack from behind. The man on the ground had finally recovered and tackled him, grabbing his midsection and sprinting straight for a twelve-foot stack of pallets. They both smashed through it a moment later. Jason laid on the ground, pushing himself up as he coughed hard. He went right back down when someone smashed another pallet across his back.

Growling, Knight lashed out with a kick to the ankle, sending one of them stumbling away. The other reached for TK's collar, finding his hand slapped away and a boot planted in his gut. Jason nipped up to his feet and launched at the one he'd just kicked with a flying cross. He kept up the pressure, using more and more of his real strength until—

The man he was attacking caught his fist—and wouldn't let go.

Jason lashed out with a snap-kick. That was caught too and used to hurl him toward a nearby forklift. He twirled midair and landed atop its upper frame in a crouch. The pair stalked toward him side-by-side, seemingly unfazed by his abilities or their own injuries. These two were fairly unremarkable—typical work clothes, tattoos on their arms, the kind of greasy, callused hands you would expect from hard labor. They looked muscular enough, he supposed, but this was inhuman.

Then one of them reached over to a stack of short steel I-beams and hefted one like a baseball bat.

"Guys," the Knight panted, "I think we might have a problem."

…

"Problem" was an understatement. One second, Batman had two of the workers disarmed and pinned to a support beam with steel-cable bolas. The next, they were slowly but surely snapping free while their fellows put suppressing fire on him with machine pistols. Batman threw down a smoke pellet and dashed for the semi's trailer. He leapt for the side and climbed up, the whizz of bullets passing him as he broke line of sight. On one of the upper catwalks lining the warehouse's edge, he spotted Robin tangling with two more while a man with a rifle was trying to get a bead on him.

Batman fired his grapnel into the ceiling between them and leapt off the trailer, swinging toward the man with the rifle. The gunman saw him coming and whirled a second too late. He planted both boots in his target's chest, slamming him against a wall and sending his rifle flying into Batman's hands. He unloaded the weapon, rapidly racking the bolt to ensure it was empty, then clubbing its owner over the head with it. Two more came from a nearby stairwell, coming at him in staggered line. Batman's hand dipped to his belt. Two batarangs sliced through the air, one ducked while the other found its mark in the second man's upper arm.

Batman didn't give them a second to think and sprinted toward the first man. A leaping knee from Batman slammed into his guard, but unprepared as he was for the impact, the force alone knocked him off his feet. From the air, Batman dropped almost prone, elbow-first into the man's shoulder. Something popped loose. He kept moving, using his momentum to twirl to a crouch and spring off toward the man clutching his arm. Batman palmed his face and grabbed the man's uninjured arm, using his hips to swing him headfirst into the wall. Another slam or two and he slid to the ground unconscious.

Rapid movement in Batman's peripherals snapped his attention to the open floor below. His used bolas laid scattered in pieces around the beam. That rapid movement returned when the two he'd trapped leapt twenty feet toward him to vault over the railing on either side, boxing him in. Batman didn't hesitate, climbing the rail and leaping off, cape flared to slow his fall. One of them grabbed it and pulled. Batman grunted as he was thrown into the wall, quickly dropping to a crouch when the other swung for his head. The impact put a deep crater in the sheet metal wall.

Batman rolled back toward the edge, maintaining his momentum and laying as flat as possible to slide beneath the railing. One made a grab for him, but this time he slipped away. The moment his boots hit the deck, he was running.

"Batman, we have enhanced in the field!" Black Bat shouted.

"I noticed!"

"I have your back," Robin called out.

Two hollow shuriken imbedded themselves in the catwalk beneath the pair who went after Batman, prompting a glance from them. They exploded with light and sound a moment later, sending the two staggering back and waving around blindly. Robin sprinted over from a perpendicular catwalk, firing his grapnel into the ceiling above them and overclocking the reel to build up as much speed as possible. He slammed into the closest one with both feet, knocking him clear off his feet. The other was still staggering blindly.

Batman leapt up the stairs three at a time, slamming elbow-first into the shoulder of the one still standing. The moment he touched down, Batman's gaze snapped to the iron grip that clamped around his ankle. Before he could do anything to break that grip, he was backhanded blindly by the man who was still on his feet. Seemed like the shoulder shot didn't even slow him down. Batman ducked the second swing and dropped, using his weight to knee the grasping arm in the bicep with his free leg. He finally let go.

Batman immediately lunged out of his reach, staying low and rising toward the other with a flurry of uppercuts to the ribs. He barely flinched. Until Robin whipped a thick cable around his neck and yanked hard, pulling his attention away from Batman. While struggling to breathe, he found himself assailed by a never-ending barrage of punches from Batman. Growling, he finally got a good grip on the cable and turned his hips hard. Robin's feet left the ground. Batman barely had enough time to brace before Robin crashed into him, throwing both of them into the wall.

The pair immediately separated so they couldn't be piled on and got some distance.

"Joints," Batman said.

"Right," Robin answered, drawing his sword.

Batman reached into his belt and brandished two electrified knuckles with retractable, thin blunt spikes meant specifically to target pressure points. It was a device he'd developed specifically for fighting metahumans with enhanced strength. The first swing was a top-down punch from the man on the left. Batman ducked and stepped underneath, shifting to the left to plant an uppercut into his lower shoulder, followed by a hook that landed a little higher. The next strike to come was a left hook. Batman slipped it, deflecting it further with a push from his left hand. His right came down on the side of the man's upper hip, followed by a left to the front, then a falling elbow to his knee.

There was still no visible effect.

Robin was trying to slice tendons and connective muscle, but his opponent was no untrained slouch. He made sure whatever was cut was superficial damage at most. And what's more, the cuts stopped bleeding almost immediately—and even began to close. Batman managed another electrified punch to the hip before their opponents crossed over; the other man blindsided him with a push kick that slammed him into the railing hard enough to make a dent. Batman leaned back and kicked the charging man in the face, using that contact to flip backward over the rail toward the ground floor. Robin followed shortly after, landing next to his father.

"They're tough," Robin said grudgingly.

Batman nodded.

"Really wishing I'd brought that sword now," Black Bat said.

A cry of pain was heard from nearby a moment later. They snapped toward it to see Black tumbling off the semi's trailer, clutching her ribs from where she'd impacted the edge. She rolled roughly when she hit the deck, stopping some ten yards from the other two. Batman spotted two more enhanced in her direction, running around the corner of the trailer in a dead sprint—and they were damn fast. The two on the catwalk leapt over the edge to hit them in a pincer.

"Scatter!" Batman shouted.

They all lunged in opposite directions, throwing down smoke pellets and vanishing into the rafters.

Batman tapped his earpiece. "Knight, what's your status?"

The silence lasted a good couple seconds before his strained voice answered. "Little—busy!"

"Black, get outside and help him. We'll handle these."

"Acknowledged," she answered.

Robin opened a channel specifically between the two of them. "And how exactly are we handling them?"

Batman touched a control on his belt. "We need them grouped up. Think you can keep their attention?"

He grinned.

…

The Knight was long past the point of patience with these two. Even after carving the I-beam to bits with his sword, they used the shards to either throw or try to stab him. He'd even thrown one into a forklift only for the bastard to rip its blades off and try to shank him with them. TK deflected two strikes with his sword, then expanded his shield to blindside him by using the edge to a slam his eyebrow. Success! The impact point was bleeding—for all of two seconds. Not nearly long enough to blind him in that eye.

A double stab with the forklift blades skidded off his shield. Knight bashed his pommel into the incoming fist of the other man, then cut for his knee. A quick backstep got him out of range. Jason grit his teeth. He'd noticed about a minute in that their veins were pronounced and strangely pale, almost glowing. So they weren't metas, more likely just juiced on something, but these weren't the average roided-out idiots that came a dime a dozen in Gotham. The way they fought, the way they were boxing him in, cutting off his escape—that took tactics, training.

Mercenaries? Ex-military? Or maybe assassins specifically hired for this job? Whatever the case, someone had gone through a lot of trouble to bait this trap. Whoever ZN was working with was not to be taken lightly.

Rapid strikes slammed his shield from all angles—the man with the forklift blades was using them like kali sticks. Jason tucked his arm in and braced the shield against his shoulder, recognizing the barrage as the distraction it was. As soon as the shield was in place, he turned to look for the other man.

"Shit."

Bonk!

Jason's ears were ringing from being struck in the head with another I-beam. Fortunately, his helmet mitigated the damage, but it still hit hard enough to rattle him. Unfortunately, it also forced him to drop the sword and destabilized his shield arm. One of the forklift blades snapped around to the inside of his shield, laying flat against his wrist and levering it, trying to wrench the device off. But Lucius had designed it well. All he managed to do was twist the Knight's wrist a little. Jason's hand clenched in a fist as he saw the I-beam come in for another swing.

TK dropped to a crouch, using the blade still tangled with his shield to pull his assailant right into the I-beam. He finally let go of the blade, letting Knight free to fly shoulder-first into the one still swinging. He skidded back twelve feet before he finally dropped the I-beam and grabbed Jason around the midsection, hurling him high into the air. TK hovered briefly, deciding which to go after first. The wind was knocked out of him again when another gunshot rang out in the distance.

It wasn't until Jason whirled toward the source that he noticed the beam.

"Shit!" his left arm came up, shield deflecting a follow-up shot. "Whatever happens, nobody go outside! They have a smart rifle!"

More gunshots came from below. TK twirled and dashed sideways, slapping much smaller bullets away with ease as he tried to pinpoint the sniper's location.

"Knight, focus on the enhanced," Black Bat transmitted. "I have the sniper."

"If they spot you—"

"Too busy trying to cap you; I'm already halfway to the building."

He smirked. "Then I'll keep their attention."

The Knight dropped toward the pair like a rock, prompting them to split and fire their pistols from two angles. Everything shattered harmlessly against his shield as he flew right between them. At the last second, he turned right sharply and slammed the edge of the shield into one's rib cage. He wheezed and dropped the gun.

"Finally!" Knight shouted in exasperation.

An uppercut from Jason smashed his jaw, followed by a Promethium-plated headbutt when he grabbed his collar and yanked. TK retracted the shield and whipped around behind him, grabbing his midsection and launching off the ground. They flew straight upward, as high as twenty stories up. Knight's assailant kept struggling, elbowing him in the head more than once, but between the bad angle and helmet, it was nothing more than an annoyance. He could see the beam waving to and fro, trying to get a bead on him without striking the hostage.

Then the beam started wavering and vanished entirely.

Cass's voice came a moment later. "Target neutralized."

Jason grinned ferally. "Bitchin'."

And he promptly dropped his hostage.

The man screamed the whole way down as his partner scrambled to catch him or mitigate the impact somewhat. At the last possible second, the Knight tackled both of them from the side, one in each arm, and threw them through the side of the warehouse. They tumbled across the concrete, only stopping when they hit the trailer. Nonetheless, they still had fight to burn and started climbing to their feet. Jason sighed hard and took a stance. Nearby, he could hear Batman and Robin still fighting the others, though it seemed they weren't fighting so much as kiting—this looked like bait for—

"Now!" Batman shouted, firing his grapnel upward.

Robin leapt for him as the reel engaged, pulling both of them to safety as the Batmobile crashed through the far end of the warehouse and drift-turned into three of their assailants at once. All three went flying and hit the ground or nearest hard surface with a sickening crack. They were still moving, but they wouldn't be moving nearly as fast or hitting as hard. As soon as the fourth enhanced saw that, he turned to see Jason and sprinted right at him with the last two. The Knight froze for a moment, then lunged for the central one with a flying knee to the face.

He landed a barrage of jabs on another's guard midair, then lashed out toward the third with a flying roundhouse to keep him back. A double elbow drop to the second dislocated his left shoulder. A shin-kick to the gut threw him into the side of the trailer. The third and first came at him from opposite sides with jabs and kicks, opting for speed over power. They were fast. Bullets were faster.

TK kicked out the back leg of one mid-lunge, forcing him to kneel, then grabbed his head and smashed a knee into his nose. Blood splattered his armor as he turned toward number three and caught an incoming fist, spinning with his momentum to hurl him out into the loading bay. The man rolled and regained his balance, glancing to the side as Knight sprinted at him. He reached down, then lunged at Jason.

TK's eyes widened a split-second before he trapped his own sword between his arm-blades, holding the razor-sharp tip mere centimeters from his eye. The enhanced pressed the advantage, trying to trip Jason and pin him to the ground. Instead, Knight hovered a bit and wrapped his legs around his opponent's arms, squeezing his thighs and pinching the man's arms together. Without that leverage, it was easy enough for Jason to twist around to his rear without breaking his hold on the man's arms, grab his midsection, and relax his legs only to suplex the bastard head-first into the gravel.

The sword hit the ground a moment later.

Knight straddled his chest and started laying into his face barehanded. He did his best to cover up despite being dazed from the impact of making a crater in the gravel. Jason just kept wailing on him, waiting for an opening.

Until a thick steel cable snapped tight around his neck and pulled. Jason groped for his neck, trying to pull the cable, but found both arms arrested by the man below him. He kept pulling, trying to break free through the thumbs, but this was an iron grip.

They'd been baiting him the whole time. He could distantly hear more gunfire inside the warehouse, more grunts of effort and the roar of the Batmobile's engine.

"Hang on!" Robin shouted.

Jason could already feel himself starting to fade.

Suddenly, the man behind him screamed, and Jason heard the sickening slick of blood spatter as the cable went lax. He was struck in the face by the man below him, the cable grabbed and wrapped further around his neck.

But the Knight's arms were free now.

Click.

The arm-blades of both gauntlets impaled his attacker's forearms in the meatiest part of the muscle. His grip around the cable failed as he shrieked louder the more Jason dug them in. TK violently ripped them loose, tearing chunks of flesh and staining the man's coat with his own blood as he grabbed his would-be assassin by the collar and slammed his head into the ground.

"Who are you?!" the Knight roared. "Why are you after us?!"

The man wheezed and coughed. "Not them. Just you."

Jason stiffened.

Despite his pain, he managed to laugh through it. "You think you've won? There's a lot more where I came from, and they'll all be coming for you soon enough."

Jason yanked him in close, baring his teeth. "Bring it on. I'll put every one of you on the ground."

At his side, Robin cleaned off his sword and stomped the man's face in. To Jason's surprise, he finally fell unconscious. It was then that he noticed the veins in his face were no longer pale and glowing.

"Whatever they were on must've worn out," Robin said.

"Yeah," Knight half-whispered. He looked up at Damian. "They were targeting me?"

"Looks that way."

For the first time since the truck arrived, it was quiet in the warehouse. They stood there for a long moment, with only the biting wind in their ear.

"Guys, you're gonna want to see this."

"Oracle?" Batman asked.

"Finally found a phone I can tap on one of those enhanced soldiers. The encryption was no joke, but I finally got in. Take a look."

TK pulled up his gauntlet holoprojector and angled it so Robin could see. And there it was: a picture of the Tomorrow Knight on Liberty Island.

With a $2 million bounty posted below.

Robin, in all his insensitive wit, just chuckled and said, "Congratulations, brother—you're finally worth something."

…

When they finally returned to the Batcave, Oracle had already compiled a preliminary breakdown of evidence found at the scene. Apparently, the semi's trailer had been filled with nothing but gravel to make it look like something heavier than the manifest indicated—better bait that way. Cass was tending to Jason's injuries while Oracle gave them the rundown on the cracked phone.

Bruce crossed his arms. "Give me the good news."

Barbara winced over the video call. "Okay, well, good news is, it's an exclusive contract, so not likely to attract too much attention."

"Yet," Damian added unhelpfully.

Jason's jaw tightened.

"And the bad news?" Cass asked.

Barbara frowned. "The bad news is, these assassins are a complete unknown to me." She pulled up an image of the discarded autoinjectors they found at the scene, as well as a preliminary chemical analysis. "I've never seen this compound they're using, and their fingerprints and faces aren't getting any hits in my database."

"I know who they are."

Everyone turned to Bruce, who looked even more broody than usual.

He took a deep breath. "At least, I know who they used to be."

Babs blinked. "Well don't keep us in suspense."

He stood up and tapped a few keys on the Batcomputer. "They're Red Claw."

An eponymous symbol displayed on the screen next to a grainy photo of a muscular woman.

"It's a terrorist syndicate I dismantled back when Dick was still Robin." He blew up the picture of the woman. "Their leader named it after herself. I never did find out her real name."

"Where is she now?" Damian asked.

"Dead. Killed in a tanker explosion she caused."

"Are you certain—"

"I checked the body myself after she faked her death once before. I'm sure." He pulled up a list of heavily redacted documents very obviously scanned with dated technology. "After she died, the organization fell apart, its members scattered to the wind. I tried to track them down for about a year, even briefly collaborated with Amanda Waller."

"But?" Jason asked.

Bruce's head shook. "Most of them were ex-military or counterintelligence, a syndicate of operatives prided on their shared training and history. They knew how to disappear, and hunting a group like that when they've scattered is next to impossible, even for me."

"And how do you know these guys were part of that?" Barbara asked. "I mean, none of their details are in any of my files."

"They wouldn't be. Very few of them were ever identified or committed to record, and most of the ones who were are already dead." Bruce's jaw tightened. "It was in the way they fought, their formations and tactics."

Cassandra nodded. "And you're the only one who recognized it because only you and Dick were active back then."

"Yes."

The room was silent for a while.

Then a thought occurred to Jason. "Do you think they're Zirconan Nebula's partner?"

Bruce frowned. "It's possible, if they managed to reform under someone else, but the fact that they're going after a bounty like this suggests they're far from autonomous."

"So, more mercenaries than terrorists now."

"Looks that way."

"Great." Jason winced as Cass finished bandaging his back.

Between the smart bullets and beatdowns, he was covered in bruises and ligature marks. Still, at least he knew his new toys did their job. Without his armor and that shield modification, tonight might've gone much, much worse. But he had to find some way to failsafe his sword, like a biometric shut-off or…he'd think of something. That was too damn close not to think about countermeasures.

"Since running down Red Claw's remnants is likely a dead end," Bruce said, "we should focus on the chemical."

"Agreed," Barbara said. "I'm already running it through a list of known enhancers, see if this is a derivative or something new."

Bruce blew up the picture of the chemical structure and took a closer look. "Let me save you the trouble." He clicked a few keys, pulling up another structure alongside it. "It's Venom, but almost unrecognizable."

Jason and Cass's eyes met.

"Son of a bitch," Jason breathed. "That's why this felt so familiar."

Bruce turned to him.

"Back in Karbala, we faced off with Bane."

He nodded. "I remember."

Cass frowned grimly. "Their strength wasn't equal, but the effects were similar."

Jason nodded. "Superhuman physique at no physical cost—with no need for a constant infusion."

Bruce scowled hard. "Then we have our next lead."

Jason arched an eyebrow at him. "Why do you sound very unhappy about that? Bane's already in custody."

Barbara frowned. "It's because of who we'll have to go through just to see him."

Jason licked his lips uneasily. "And uh…who's that?"

…

Hundreds of miles away in Washington, a phone went off, the second or third ring finally waking its owner. With a small groan, she rolled over to the nightstand and reached for it. There were only a handful of people in the world who knew her personal number, and only one of them had the stones to call her this late. With an annoyed grimace, she picked up the phone and laid back down, one arm draped over her eyes.

"You know, Bruce, some of us aren't nocturnal."

"Amanda."

Her eyes snapped open. His voice was practically a growl for how agitated he sounded.

"Someone put a two-million-dollar bounty on my son. Red Claw almost claimed it tonight."

She was already sitting up, wide awake now. "What do you need from me?"

"Access to Belle Reve and five minutes alone with Bane, off the books."

Amanda sighed and shook her head. "You know how this works, Bruce. You want me to bend the rules, you have to give me something."

"What do you want?"

"First, I want to meet the kid."

"He'll be coming with me to Belle Reve. And the second?"

She frowned. "The new speedster who's been running around with your daughter. I want five minutes alone with him."

He was quiet for a long moment. "We'll try, but I make no promises."

Amanda hummed. "Tomorrow morning at eight?"

"Six. The longer he's a target, the worse this is going to get."

She sighed. "Then I better sleep while I can. I'll see you then."

He hung up before she did. Another sigh left her. This was something she'd been putting off since the League's intervention in Karbala, and for good reason. Amanda Waller made a point not to piss off anyone she couldn't immediately deal with. When it came to metahumans, there were few more dangerous or unpredictable than speedsters. Hopefully Batman making introductions would smooth things over somewhat, and if not, well…she had her contingencies—and so did Belle Reve.

AN: Good news: I managed to secure a steady job, so hopefully money will be lower on my list of concerns soon. Better news: I'm feeling my mojo slowly coming back. Still not sure if or when I'll be able to output more consistently, but at least I have a somewhat better idea of how I want this story to play out, which always helps.

Those of you who are OG Batman fans might remember Red Claw from the animated series. As with a lot of this "Prime" universe, I love drawing from the masterpiece that is the DCAU whenever it's even remotely expedient. The main issue I'm having at the moment is deciding how to use all the moving pieces I have in play, but I'll figure it out. Just a little rusty at the moment.

Next chapter will be the second part of this case. Should be interesting, especially that last bit, for those of you who've read the White Revenant's origin story..

Formatting notes:

– Internal Thoughts/Flashback
– "Super-Hearing/Surveillance"
– Telepathy/Divine Speech
– "{Foreign Language}"
– [Text Message]