"Hold on," Thea said, glancing around the room. "You're all so fired up about opposing Talia — but what if Bruce comes back and agrees with her? Won't he be mad we made the decision for him?"
Lucius didn't even blink. "You have a plan, don't you? Don't worry about Bruce. He wouldn't agree to this. And even if he did, all of us opposing him together leaves him no choice."
The old executive had read her well — that calm, calculating expression of hers wasn't for nothing. For the first time that morning, a spark of hope flickered in his tired eyes.
Thea tilted her head, pretending to think. "Honestly, this isn't as big a problem as it sounds."
Everyone turned toward her, confused.
"I don't know if you realize this," she said casually, "but I happen to hold shares in Wayne Enterprises."
"What?"
"Yeah. My father bought some years ago — 0.5% for me and 0.7% for my brother. After my brother passed, his portion rolled over to me. So I currently own about 1.2% of Wayne stock."
Lucius blinked. "You're thinking of calling for a shareholder vote of no confidence to block Talia's claim? It's a good idea, but you're far short of the fifteen percent required for a veto."
Thea smiled faintly. "That's not an issue. Queen Consolidated already holds 3.5%, and Merlin Industries has about the same. I can bring those votes in." She extended her hand. "Lucius Fox, right? I'm Thea Queen."
The old man took off his glasses, staring at her properly now. "Moira Queen is your—?"
"My mother," she replied simply.
"I see… I've met her — and John Diggle Steel as well. Didn't expect…" He trailed off, shaking his head. Old habits; he'd known both of them back when Gotham and Star City actually talked.
Thea kept a polite smile. He was old enough to be her grandfather; she wasn't about to nitpick the way he reminisced.
"But even so," Lucius said, returning to business, "we'd still be short. The board requires at least fifteen percent in total."
"That's easy enough," Thea said, gesturing toward Lyla. "This is Ms. Lyla Michaels — a government liaison. She can… let's say, influence a few corporations. Some of them hold Wayne stock."
Lyla raised an eyebrow but caught on quickly. She'd spent her career in the military, not corporate boardrooms, but she understood the gist: government-owned companies, partner firms, contractors — they all answered to her phone calls.
A few calls here and there, no risk, plenty of goodwill earned — perfect.
She didn't even bother running it past Amanda Waller. Just nodded at Lucius. "Consider it done."
Ten minutes later, Thea was on the phone with her mother and her stepfather Malcolm Merlyn. Neither asked many questions; both simply sent her a list of friendly shareholders to contact.
Meanwhile, Lyla rang up three or four government-linked firms. Between the two of them — and Lucius adding his own shares — the total easily cleared fifteen percent. Even Alfred, bless him, held a sliver of stock that helped push them over the line.
Thea handed Lucius two slips of paper. "The proposal will have to come from you. Our side only supports the vote. Remember that."
She spoke firmly, the tone of someone who understood how the game was played.
If the Queens interfered too directly in Wayne Enterprises, people would start whispering — hostile takeover, corporate power grab.
That was the last kind of trouble she needed.
Lucius nodded, understanding perfectly. Decades in the business had taught him when to take a hint.
And just like that, a crisis that had seemed unsolvable ten minutes ago was neatly tied up with a bow.
The others stared at Thea as if she'd just pulled gold bricks out of thin air.
"What?" she said, shrugging. "This is just how things work. Our countries run on boardroom politics. Don't look so shocked. Bruce holds Queen Consolidated shares too, you know. Now quit gawking and get back to work — we still have civilians waiting to be rescued."
The group dispersed reluctantly, still stunned by how easily she'd solved the "impossible" problem.
Catwoman left the van grinding her teeth. If she'd needed a new reason to work harder, she had one now — never again was she letting a billionaire heiress outclass her so easily.
Robin and Barbara, walking side by side, whispered to each other.
"How much money do you think she actually has?"
"More than you ever will," Barbara muttered.
Back in the command van, Felicity was already rebooting her drones. Thea stretched, gave a few more instructions, and slipped off to her RV for a well-deserved nap.
By lunchtime, everyone regrouped. It wasn't a meal — just a debrief.
Commissioner Gordon, now unofficially promoted to "head of intelligence," summarized the new data.
"Disappearances have been reported across multiple districts," he said grimly. "Exact numbers are unclear, but their base isn't exactly hidden."
He unfolded a map and pointed at a spot.
The locals in the room all sucked in a sharp breath.
Thea frowned. "What? There's nothing marked there — it's just blank space. Where is that?"
Catwoman's voice came out low. "That… is Arkham Asylum."