Bruce Wayne's eyes narrowed as he watched the news report. He immediately turned to his computer, pulling up every piece of intel he had on the dock worker strike and the surrounding slums.
Alfred entered the room, carrying a perfectly tailored suit. He saw the look on Bruce's face and sighed, but before he could speak, Bruce cut him off without even turning around.
"Alfred, if you're here to tell me about an important Wayne Enterprises meeting or a list of influential guests I'm supposed to meet, the answer is no. Something more important has come up."
Alfred stood with perfect posture, his silver hair neatly combed. "Master Bruce, I believe you misunderstand," he said in his calm, standard London accent. "I know better than to try and dissuade you when Commissioner Gordon and Detective Adam are in danger. They are allies you value." He paused. "I was merely going to suggest that the Batmobile might be a bit conspicuous in broad daylight. And swinging from rooftops with grappling hooks in front of thousands of people... well, it might raise a few questions."
Bruce finished his research and stood up, ignoring the lingering pain from last night's injuries. He didn't care about Batman's unwritten rule of only appearing at night. "That's why I'll be taking the new Bat-Fighter out," he said simply. "Lucius said it's ready for a test flight. This seems like the perfect opportunity."
The old butler was left speechless for a moment. He could only add, with a touch of dry resignation, "Oh, that's... wonderful, sir."
Back in the Gotham slums, war was about to break out. The gangsters coming up the stairs realized something was wrong and started shouting for backup. The cabinet blocking the door began to splinter under their combined assault. Gordon helped Barbara scramble onto the roof, then looked back to see Adam still locked in a standoff with Killer Whale.
"Adam, let's go! We're out of time!" Gordon yelled. More men were gathering outside, and the situation was becoming critical.
But Killer Whale was still trying to cut a deal, his voice filled with a desperate confidence. "Detective, why not consider my proposal? You have no chance of winning. Why don't you just—"
Adam had heard enough. A dangerous light flashed in his eyes. He was done being passive, and Killer Whale was the perfect target for his frustration.
"Say what? Negotiate a deal with you?" Adam sneered. "The guy who just told me my name is on a kill list? You want me to trust you? Not a chance."
Killer Whale forced a smile, trying to sound reassuring. "No, no, you misunderstand! You're a low-priority target on that list. Most assassins go for the big money first. They wouldn't even get to you until after someone like Zsasz was taken out..."
Adam wasn't listening. He took off his heavy tactical windbreaker and threw it over Killer Whale's shoulders. Then he ripped the red cloth from the gangster's head.
"It's a sad thing," Adam said quietly, "to have your life in someone else's hands."
Killer Whale stared at him, confused. But Adam didn't give him time to think. With a powerful kick, he sent the crime boss flying out the back door.
The gangsters waiting in ambush below saw a figure in a police-style coat burst out of the room. Without a second thought, they opened fire. A hail of bullets tore through the man. The unfortunate Killer Whale was riddled with holes, killed by his own men before he even had a chance to scream.
After a full clip was emptied, one of the gangsters noticed something wrong. "Wait a minute... is that... the boss? Look at his shoes!"
They all stopped firing, a horrified silence falling over them. They rushed forward and saw Killer Whale lying in a pool of his own blood, his face frozen in disbelief. His ambitions were extinguished by the very men he commanded.
As the gangsters stood there in shock, Adam seized the opportunity. He burst out of the doorway, a pistol in each hand, and unleashed a storm of bullets on the stunned crowd. At such close range, he didn't need to aim. The dense firepower tore through them, sending them to meet their boss in hell.
The guards at the back door were eliminated in seconds.
"Let's go!" Adam yelled, and the three of them escaped through the opening he had created.
But it wasn't over. The sound of gunfire had alerted the entire slum. Gang members poured out of the surrounding shacks, armed and ready to hunt down the intruders.
"This way!" Barbara shouted, jumping down from a nearby roof to lead them. The little girl had seen Adam's ruthless efficiency and felt a strange sense of security with him. She grabbed her father's hand and pulled him along.
Adam didn't hesitate. He trusted her and followed without question. He knew about the future Batgirl's secret weapon: a perfect photographic memory. Once she'd seen a route, a three-dimensional map formed in her mind. She was better than any GPS.
Barbara was surprised by his unconditional trust. Everyone else, including her own father, treated her like a child and dismissed her ideas. But Adam followed her without a word. In that moment, he earned more of her respect than any other cop she knew.
They plunged deeper into the maze of the slum, a chaotic world of narrow alleys, makeshift shacks, and tangled wires. The stench of garbage was everywhere. They were being chased, and they were hopelessly lost to anyone but Barbara.