Maurice Willenholly was not a man who wanted much out of life. He was content to get a paycheck, pay his bills and have the pinnacle of his day be the moment when he came home after a hard day's work to a nice cool beer and a comfy easy chair. He wasn't interested in world travel or broadening his knowledgeable horizons. Nope, all he wanted was simplicity. He wasn't trained for much in the line of work, but he was able to be relatively alert, had a clean record and was able to handle a firearm…pretty much all he needed to get a job with STAR Labs in Gotham City as a security guard.

STAR Gotham was relatively quiet compared to its brothers and sisters in other cities. Unlike Metropolis, whose STAR branch seemed to get attacked more often than not by costumed maniacs, Gotham's branch was more mediocre and subdued. It was argued whether STAR Gotham would be staying open much longer, however. STAR Gotham was not given the lucrative research projects other cities were given. Due to the larger criminal population, in particular of the costumed variety, the Lab was never holding much of importance. If nothing valued was there, then it stood to reason that no one would attack or steal from it. So far, that was the case. Evenings here were uneventful, and Maurice liked it that way.

When he had come on this evening he had heard some gossip from the day shift about a visiting researcher whom STAR was lending some lab space to. This visitor was off in a restricted area even Maurice didn't have access to, so he put it out of his mind. It didn't concern him and in any case, the visiting researcher was most likely working on a fancy bread slicer or other. After all, STAR Gotham never got anything interesting to work on.

Several hours into his shift, Maurice decided to stop and have a smoke. He lit up and took that amazingly sweet first drag. He raised his head and exhaled into the dark night…and saw something move above him, leaping from the neighbouring building to STAR's rooftop. He threw down his cigarette and stepped away from the building, partially drawing his sidearm. Had he imagined what he saw? Possibly. That distance was more than 200 feet! Should he check out the roof just to be sure? Probably.

Maurice checked in with the central dispatch desk to let them know he was checking out something on the roof. He used the service elevator and within several minutes was walking through the lab's roof access. He took out his flashlight and began sweeping the area, not really expecting to find anything. As he approached one of the air ventilation exhaust ports, he noticed something: the grating was hanging down…and there were two screws on the ground, stacked neatly beside each other. He knelt down to inspect them.

As he held one of the screws in his hand, he dropped his flashlight. It rolled several feet away. He reached for it, getting on his hands and knees. Grabbing it, he stood up. He raised his head and was knocked back by a blow. Landing hard on the ground, his firearm landing out of reach, he looked up to see who had struck him. Blood trickled down the side of his face. All he saw was a silhouette of what appeared to be a woman. His flashlight, knocked out of his hands by the fall again, rolled to a stop, shining a beam on his attacker. It was definitely a woman, with cat-like ears on her mask. She was dressed all in black. He struggled to reach his gun but was kicked in the head savagely. He felt blood pour down his face from a vicious scalp wound. The woman straddled his chest, smiling at him. She extended one of her hands and he could see the moonlight reflecting off of her fingertips, seeming almost metallic. She brought them down, ripping open Maurice's throat. As she got up, Maurice tried to call for help, but no sound escaped as he choked on his own blood.

Maurice Willenholly, a man who liked a simple and uncomplicated life, was dead within thirty seconds.

Bruce Wayne did his level best not to fall asleep as the monthly Board Meeting of Wayne Enterprises went into its second hour. Financial forecasts, industry projections and cash allocation charts seemed to come in an endless stream. Wayne Enterprises CEO, Lucius Fox, leaned over to Bruce as the VP- Marketing droned on about the company's advertising expenses this quarter as compared to LexCorp's.

"Not the most exciting stuff, is it, Bruce?"

Bruce gave a sudden jolt as if he had been woken up, his designer eyeglasses momentarily askew on his face. "Not really, Lucius. I thought I paid you the big money to get me out of things like this?"

Lucius smiled at him. "Money only gets you so far, Bruce. You know the Board likes to see you once in a while on the record. You're the public face of Wayne Enterprises. No amount of money will ever rid you of that particular job. However, for a hefty raise, I could be inclined to make an excuse for you to leave early." Lucius's smile never wavered.

Bruce rolled his eyes in a dramatic look of woe. "Anything, Lucius." He smiled back at Lucius with a wink.

The VP-Marketing finished his spiel and sat down. Before anyone else could get up, Lucius spoke. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I think it's time for a short break. Mr. Wayne has a prior engagement and will not be joining us for the remainder of the meeting. Shall we reconvene in, say, fifteen minutes?" There was a quick enough consensus that made it apparent Bruce wasn't the only one bored out of his mind.

As everyone got up to refresh their coffee and grab a danish, Bruce made his way out of the boardroom. He caught Lucius's eye and mouthed silently "Thank you" as he left. Lucius gave a laugh and shook his head. He had actually expected Bruce to up and leave much earlier than this. Bruce seemed the kind of person who couldn't be bothered with mundane details such as running a billion dollar business when there was a golf game or dinner with a supermodel to be had, yet he always knew what was going on in Wayne Enterprises. Nothing escaped him.

"I wonder if he'll remember that raise," said Lucius quietly to himself with a smile.

Tim Drake was having one of those days. Homework was piling up faster than he could think and on top of that he had been doing more than his usual share of work as Robin of late. Batman had been away on more and more missions lately with the Justice League, and with Nightwing in Bludhaven it was up to him to keep the peace.

His term paper on the Outcomes of the Civil War had been done on time, but he had left it in the Batcave by accident. Luckily his marks were high enough that his History teacher, Mr. Hodgson, was willing to cut him a break if he had it in by the end of the day. Problem was, he couldn't duck out of class without raising more ire with the principal and concurrently, his father. He certainly couldn't ask anyone to bring it to him from home…or could he?

Tim dialled his cellphone and waited as the other end rang. Once. Twice. Three times. He was about to give up when a familiar voice rang out.

"Wayne Manor, Alfred speaking. How may I help you?"

Tim let his head rest against the wall in relief. "Alfred, I'm glad I caught you. I need a huge favour."

Tim could almost hear Alfred smile as he replied, "Certainly, Master Tim. What do you require?"

Tim told Alfred what he needed. "Certainly, sir. I will leave immediately for the school. Shall I leave it at the front office?"

"You bet," said Tim, "That would be great. Thanks Alf…You're a life saver!"

"One saves what lives one can, young sir," said Alfred before ending the connection.

Bruce made his way to his office on the top floor. Asking his secretary to hold his calls, he closed the door behind him and loosened his tie. It was just after 3 pm.

He sat in his leather couch and propped his feet onto his redwood coffee table. Grabbing a remote, he brought a big screen down from its place in the ceiling and turned it on. He had it preset to cover four different major news networks. As the newscasters continued with the news of the day, Bruce took off his eyeglasses and stared at them as if they were some alien device.

He had always had pride in the peak condition his body was in. He needed to be at the top of his game at all times. The fact that his eyesight was in need of correction did not amuse him. He wore the glasses not so much for look anymore, much to his chagrin. "I'm turning into Clark," he said to himself bitterly.

He yawned and realized that he should perhaps get caught up on some rest while he had time. He had been away for the last few days on a mission with the Justice League. He hated being away from Gotham for extended periods, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. The JLA was taking more and more time out of his life, however, and something might have to be done soon to correct that. He had returned to Wayne Manor and the Batcave around 10 am this morning and would have taken today to get caught up on his sleep if it wasn't for the cursed Board Meeting. Now that he had put in an appearance, he was going to get a short rest prior to setting out onto the streets of Gotham as the Batman. He hadn't been able to check in with Tim Drake, aka Robin, about anything that might have occurred while he had been away, but Alfred had assured him anything of note had been handled well by his youthful partner.

Bruce stretched out on his sofa and began to fall asleep as the news stations continued to drone. He was seconds from slumber when a particular news report caught his attention.

"This is Dane Morgan for WLEX-Gotham, repeating the breaking story of an early morning murder at STAR Labs' Gotham branch. Reportedly, a security guard was murdered last night by an assailant who broke into the high-tech facility. Details are sketchy, but it is believed the guard was killed while the thief made his or her escape. As for what has been stolen, we have not been told any details, but this reporter has found out that noted robotics expert Dr. Will Magnus has been using the facilities here of late and that he has been questioned by police. More details to come as we get them. Back to you, Jack."

Bruce was awake and upright immediately. Grabbing his overcoat, he left his office, making his way to the underground parkade and his Porsche. As he drove to Wayne Manor, his mind began to go over what details he had gleaned from the news report. If Magnus was in Gotham and was at STAR Labs, the thief could have made off with something deadlier than the media knew.

Sleep was going to have to wait.

Bruce Wayne pulled into the Manor garage and noticed that the Rolls was out. Alfred must be out on errands, thought Bruce as he parked the Porsche. He entered the manor's side entrance and made his way into the inner parlor.

He approached the grandfather clock set against the far wall. His face and demeanor dramatically changed from foppish playboy to grim and deadly. He turned the clock hands to 10:47, the minute his parents has been murdered all those years ago…time that was still as fresh to Bruce as yesterday. The clock swung outward, revealing a carved stone stairwell leading into darkness. As Bruce walked through the entrance, biometric sensors scanned him for various identifying traits: eye color, height, weight, fingerprints. Had he been someone unauthorized, stringent countermeasures would have been activated. The clock slowly swung shut behind him, the clock hands resetting themselves.

As Bruce descended the stairs, his mind left the day to day musings of Wayne Enterprises and focussed on his mission. Down here, Bruce Wayne went away. Now, in every way that mattered, he was the Batman. At the bottom of the stairwell Wayne entered a huge cavernous chamber. Spotlights lit upon his arrival, focussing on computer consoles, display cases and memorabilia gathered from his war on crime. He approached a massive bank of computer screens that served as the central hub of the Batcave's information network.

"Authorization requested. Password: Broken Pearls."

Instantly a smooth computer voice responded. "AUTHORIZATION ACCEPTED. WELCOME, BATMAN."

Batman sat down in his seat before the console, face as if carved from stone. "Access newsfeeds, center on recent break-in and murder at STAR Labs-Gotham."

The screens around him each lit up with a different newsfeed from a different 24 hour news network. Listening to them at once, he quickly derived items of importance from the minor details. Commissioner James Gordon was on the scene making official statements. It all amounted to one conclusion: The media was being kept in the dark. Usually there was a reason for that. When Jim Gordon was handling the scene personally, that reason was most likely not good.

Shutting down the newsfeeds, Batman walked into a side chamber to the left of the central computer bank. Lights flooded on as he entered. Inside were a variety of uniforms he had used on missions as well as others he had made to cover other eventualities. Closest to the chamber entrance was his new standard uniform. He changed out of his business suit and into what had become as close to him as his own skin.

When he emerged, the transformation was complete. Garbed in black from head to toe, the most visible part of him a bat-symbol surrounded by an oval of yellow on his chest, he walked towards the garage. His eyes began to adjust from his eyeglass wear to the lenses within his newly improved cowl. John Henry Irons, aka Steel, had developed a new cowl that could stand up to the stresses of his urban war yet correct his developing eye problems. He toggled through the various heads-up displays as he approached the garage. He now had access to night vision, infra-red, UV and MRI imaging scans. His access to his equipment in the Batcave was also amped up, as he now had remote access to everything in the Batcave, including the Justice League Teleporters Emergency Override, something that even Steel and the League was unaware of. Steel had made improvements to Batman's entire outfit, making it even more resistant to damage and adding extra support in the joints, one area Batman had noted needed additional protection in the past. Truly acting now as an extension of his body, Batman's new suit was much lighter than his old one, allowing more flexibility and range of movement. The result was a much more prepared and dangerous scourge of the criminal underworld.

Batman entered the garage. Before him was a huge platform system that could be arranged in any order he wished. On each platform was an incarnation of his primary mode of transportation, what the first Robin, Dick Grayson, had affectionately dubbed the Batmobile. Batman had gone through various versions of the car, always improving and rebuilding as he went on and his needs in crimefighting escalated. From an old-style armoured sedan to a customized Lincoln Futura to the urban tank he had used until its destruction at the hands of Azrael, the Batmobile had continually evolved. He had recently finished his latest version and wanted to take it for a road test. Now was as good a time as any.

He keyed for the new Batmobile to move from its slot in the procession of cars to the main staging area before him. As it approached, he used the proper heads-up display in his cowl to send a remote command. As the car landed in the staging area, it roared to life, flames from the jet engine boosters briefly shooting out as the unique fuel mixture ignited. He stood for a moment to examine and even admire his newest weapon in the war on crime.

The new Batmobile was fully armoured, with no wheel wells or other areas overtly exposed. It resembled a combination of a stealth fighter and a Lamborghini. It was jet black from end to end. It was constructed out of a hybrid of Promethium and Omnium Steel. The tires were made of a space-age solid rubber, nearly impossible to rupture or penetrate, yet adaptable to polymorphic change to varying weather and terrain conditions. The windshield was totally opaque and constructed with a Kevlar-fiber/spider's silk in-grain weave that rendered it virtually shatterproof. The tint was variable to the operator's specifications. Inside, the windshield acted as a large screen computer monitor with heads-up holographic displays that could broadcast the view directly to Batman's cowl. Hidden cameras provided a complete 360 degree view of the area. The car was outfitted with an advanced artificial intelligence that could adapt to new threats and respond accordingly. It was armed with an array of adaptable countermeasures that could do anything from crowd control to actual military assault. One of its more interesting features was its ability to stay cloaked to all forms of electronic detection, based on designs from a man named Michael Holt. It also had a chameleon system that would allow it limited camouflage, primarily in a night setting but it would work effectively in daylight for the most part. As well, the only three people who could access the vehicle via biometric scans were Batman, Alfred and Robin. Even Superman would be momentarily downed by the intrusion countermeasures were he to attack the vehicle. God forbid it was to ever happen, but if Batman was anything, he was prepared.

"Open", said Batman. The car door opened as it recognized Batman's password and biometric readings. Inside, his seat felt liquid-like for a second before moulding itself to his body type. On his headrest was the same bat-in-yellow-oval symbol as was on his chest. On the passenger seat's headrest was a stylized "R" for his partner. He regretted that Robin was not home from school yet. He knew the Boy Wonder would have greatly enjoyed their new toy. Batman had plans for upgrading Robin's Redbird car once he was sure the modifications on this vehicle were working up to his exacting standards.

The seatbelts and crash webbing came down from above, fixing Batman into position. As the door closed, he saw all the computer banks come to life around him as they interfaced with the Batcave's network. The dashboard readouts showed that the hydrogen batteries were at full power. The drive-turbines were at optimal speed. Satisfied everything was a go, he hit the accelerator and blasted out of the staging area into the massive exit tunnel. The tunnel ran for a kilometre or more and came out in the midst of a forest preserve north of Gotham just inside the rich community of Bristol. This eventually led to a little used patch of highway that eventually fed into Gotham City itself. 20 miles and two minutes later, Batman was in Gotham City. The chameleon technology made the car effectively invisible. Since it was still partly daylight he needed the anonymity. The STAR Labs incident wouldn't wait until sundown.

Commissioner James Gordon hated the Feds. He couldn't recall a time when their involvement in a case had ever turned out the way he wanted it. The STAR Labs case was one of many strange occurrences in this town that happened every day. Why the feds would think any differently on this particular one he didn't know. Usually the presence of the federales meant something was going on that he wasn't meant to know about. Well, too bad, he thought, When a man dies in this city, it's my problem, not theirs. The very quick presence of the feds in this incident definitely put his instincts on the rise. "Tell me again what your interest is here, Agent-?"

"Dillinger, Commissioner. Agent Dillinger, with the Department of Extranormal Operations." Agent Dillinger gave a look to Gordon through his RayBan sunglasses that showed his annoyance in having to repeat himself.

The men stood in the hallway off from the lab currently lent out to Dr. Will Magnus. The lab itself had been sealed off by Dillinger and his fellow DEO agents as soon as they had arrived, shooing out the Gotham PD crime scene investigators as well as the Major Crimes Unit's primary investigators, Harvey Bullock and Renee Montoya, who proceeded to continue their work on the rooftop where Willenholly's body had been found. Gordon usually wasn't required to personally oversee standard crime scenes unless something was uniquely out of the ordinary. Bullock's call that the feds had taken over was definitely one of those somethings.

"I think," said Gordon, "That we can better work together if some information was shared. For our mutual benefit." Gordon's face was stone.

"I thank you for the offer, Commissioner," said Agent Dillinger. "However, this case has become a matter of national security and as such we cannot reveal many of the pertinent details. You can feel free to process the body upstairs by all means, but as to the robbery last night and any connection to the murder, I'm afraid you will be barred from that particular avenue of investigation. I hope I've made myself quite clear on that. I'd hate to involve my Director in this, but if necessary I will."

If there was one thing Gordon did not take lightly to, it was threats. "We'll see about that, Agent. We'll see."

Gordon moved to the stairs and gave Dillinger a look that made it quite apparent he was not invited.

"This isn't over, Dillinger," said Gordon.

"Cie le Vie, Gordon," replied Dillinger. His demeanour and dropping of the Commissioner's title told Gordon that he was getting no farther with the jurisdictional rap than he already had.

Gordon took the stairs to the rooftop.

"Harvey," said Gordon as he got to the roof, "What have we got?"

Bullock looked down at the blood stains from where Willenholly's body had lain.
The CSI's had left the crime scene, allowing the detectives to start their work. Assembled before Gordon was Bullock, Montoya, and MCU Detective McKenzie Bock. Gordon had wanted a definite GCPD presence when he had heard the feds were here. These three detectives were his most trusted. In a department as corrupt as the GCPD was, that trust was worth more than anything.

"Commish," said Bullock, "Its lookin' pretty cut and dried to me. The security footage we were able to garner a look-see at kinda wraps this case up. It was the cat. Woman, that is."

"Thoughts, Renee?" asked Gordon.

The Latino detective was one of the youngest and finest Gordon had ever worked with. "Seems open and shut," she said. "Almost too open and shut. Catwoman has a rep for not being that easy to catch or hold on to. If we saw her on camera, she wanted to be seen."

"That still doesn't mean she didn't commit the murder, Renee," said McKenzie Bock. "Everyone makes mistakes. Maybe it was just her time to screw up."

"I think Willenholly surprised her," said Bullock. "Pure and simple. Sure Catwoman's good, but being good can make you cocky. Cockiness breeds ignorance. Ignorance breeds incompetence."

"Why Harvey," said Montoya, "That sounded positively profound. Have you been reading actual books again?"

Harvey shrugged, "I read it in a fortune cookie."

"That's one hell of a cookie," said Bock.

"Getting back to the matter at hand," said Gordon, "I want this handled professionally and by the book. We do this right and we do this without hindering the Feds' parallel investigation. I want zero push-back from you to them on this. I'll deal with the federal end myself. I have a few favors I can call in."

"You got it, Commish," said Bullock.

"Finish up here," said Gordon. "I'm heading back to headquarters."

Batman moved silently as he traversed the stairwell of STAR Labs. His new uniform was working well, having tripped no alarms or motion detectors. He made his way into the security suite on the main floor. Due to the incident the night before, no one was present in STAR except for a few administrators. In the security suite a guard was sleeping at the monitor board. Batman sprayed a small dose of Ver-sed gas to ensure the man stayed out for a few minutes. Locking the door, Batman accessed the security tapes.

He brought the replay back to the previous morning and watched in slow motion as what seemed to be a feline figure accessed the roof and then entered a ventilation shaft. Minutes later, the figure accessed Will Magnus' lab. The picture went full of static and garbled to the point he couldn't make out what was going on. Then the picture was gone. The rooftop view then showed the figure leaving the ventilation shaft. The figure snuck up on the doomed security guard, kicked him, straddled him and then tore open his throat. The picture of the killer was indistinct but enough. Had he been anyone else, Batman would have said that was Catwoman. Had she gone over the line? He sincerely hoped not.

He began running through possibilities in his mind. Catwoman was unlikely, as this was most definitely not her style; she wasn't a killer. As were the Psyba-Rats, who had encountered Robin on more than one occasion. They were techno thieves, not killers. This guard's death was no accident, not if his throat was slashed. Although, one of the Rats did have the ability to transmute her limbs into an organic metal…perhaps she had panicked? The silhouette didn't seem to match, however.

He took out another new device he had made from designs by Michael Holt. A small gizmo that interfaced with his cowl and the network in the Batcave, it was essentially the world's most powerful handheld computer. He used the built in algortithms supplied by Oracle to hack into the STAR security database and copy the security recordings wirelessly, which were stored on servers next to the suite. In seconds, Batman had a full account of the security camera's view of the crime with all trace of his access removed from the system. He replaced the computer to his belt.

He then toggled the security camera's view to Magnus's Lab to see it in real-time. Inside were several technicians working on something, with a man in a traditional government issue black suit and tie speaking on a cell phone. Batman turned up the volume on the speakers.

"Yes, sir…It's all proceeding smoothly…no, sir….no sign of him yet, although as we discussed that is why we deputized Wil….yes, sir, I realize that…you'll be notified upon any chan…Yes, sir…Dillinger out."

So this was Agent Dillinger. Definitely someone to keep an eye on.

The technicians moved aside to reveal what they were working on. All of them wore DEO insignias on their uniforms.

Will Magnus was the genius responsible for the creation of the Metal Men. Apparently, when several friends of his had been threatened with death, he had been able to transfer their minds and (arguably) their souls into an experimental device called a responsometer. When set inside a particular sample of metal, the responsometer allowed the minds within the device to mold the metal into a humanoid shape that could be changed to suit their whims. They also were able to take advantage of any physical properties of the metal they were made from. The Metal Men's membership consisted of Gold, Iron, Lead, Tin, Mercury and Platinum. It turned out that Magnus' brother had become the Metal Man named Gold and he had been destroyed a while back. In the same conflict that had killed Gold, Magnus had been forced to transfer himself to a responsometer and into a body made out of an alloy derived from an alien spacecraft. He had taken to calling himself Veridium, but these days tended to go by his human name of Will Magnus. In this new form, Magnus had obviously come to Gotham to complete research and been attacked by whoever had robbed him last night. This opened even more suspicions for Batman. Magnus was a Metal Man, with all the abilities inherent of the others of that group. For someone to have incapacitated him was no laughing matter. The Metal Men were usually a humorous and laid back group, but they could be deadly if required.

Batman zoomed in on the form of Veridium/Dr. Will Magnus. He was lying on an examining table seemingly inert. His metal form was still intact, however, likely meaning Magnus' responsometer was still inside him governing his form. He looked like a statue. Whoever had attacked him most likely used some sort of electromagnetic pulse to freeze Magnus. This would account for the faulty security recording. But to have it powerful enough to wreak havoc with a responsometer? According to JLA files, the responsometers were heavily shielded against such things. Whoever had broken in had been very prepared…which unfortunately was something Catwoman was known for, if nothing else.

Dillinger began speaking again, this time to the technicians. "I want Magnus packed up and ready to ship tonight. Make sure all records of his work here are packed up as well. I have to head out. I'll meet you all tonight at our hangar at Gotham Airport, midnight sharp. No mistakes, you read me?" They all acknowledged him. Dillinger then left the lab.

Quickly, Batman left the security room and left into the back alley. The Batmobile was parked in an alley around the corner, cloaked from visual range. Batman disengaged the security systems and entered the car. Even in late daytime, this alley was well shadowed.

Starting the car, Batman left the alley and headed to downtown Gotham.

Commissioner Gordon entered his office and closed the door. The DEO involvement was alarming, both in its quickness and secrecy. He had some contacts that might be able to shed some light on this. He sat at his desk, brought out his Rolodex and began flipping through it.

"I don't trust Dillinger," came a voice from behind him.

Gordon jumped at the voice, but quickly settled himself. He knew he should be used to this, but Batman still got him every time. "Neither do I, which is why I was going to be calling you in on this in any event," said Gordon. "Everything about this case is above the norm. First, we have a dead security guard who had his throat ripped out. Second, we have some items stolen from the labs below that are quite specialized to my way of thinking. Thirdly, the man that was robbed is…in a unique state right now. To the last two I can't add much due to the Department of Extranormal Operations' involvement…so-called orders from Agent Dillinger."

"I wasn't aware they had a bureau in Gotham." Batman had encountered another agent not long ago named Cameron Chase. While not disapproving of her personally, he was very suspicious of the DEO's intentions in whatever they stuck their noses in.

Gordon smiled. He knew where Batman was going with this. "You'd be right. The DEO is based out of Washington with branch offices in Metropolis, San Fransisco and other cities…except Gotham. Mighty convenient that Dillinger happens to show up right in the nick of time."

"Hm," replied Batman.

"We were able to review the security tapes briefly before Dillinger arrived. Its pretty broken up…but it looks mighty familiar."

"Catwoman," said Batman.

"It looks like Catwoman," said Gordon. "Which is why I was going to be in touch with you. I figured you'd have an…interest…in her involvement." Gordon's face never wavered, but Batman could see what he meant. Catwoman had been the one of Batman's usual rogues that he had never really captured. She was one of the greatest thieves in the world and more than once had given Batman and the GCPD a headache or two…but she had always eluded capture. Batman had to admit to himself there was an attraction there, no doubt. Gordon seemed to realize this as well. There was one reason Catwoman hadn't been caught: Batman hadn't wanted to, at least not to the point of actual incarceration. He had always stopped her when they tangled…but he had never taken her in.

"I've reviewed the tapes," said Batman, brushing past Gordon's unspoken concerns. "She's been framed for murder before. You and I both know it's not her style. Neither the location nor the murder."

"Why am I not surprised that you've already seen them", Gordon replied. "Her style is crime. She steals. This time, perhaps she was surprised. I've many an officer who has tangled with her and still bear the scars to prove it. To someone like her, murder may be a necessity to an end…especially if the payoff is lucrative enough. They say the difference between a murderer and a law-abiding citizen is only a sum of money."

"We'll see," said Batman. "You said the man stolen from is in a unique state. Will Magnus."

"You presume correctly. I'll tell you, I didn't realize the…changes…he'd been through in the last few years. It's above me, that's for sure." Gordon removed his glasses and began cleaning them. "Everything I have is screaming at me that there's more here than we're being told. What, I don't know. Problem is, the DEO's credentials are valid, and they do have jurisdictional supercedence on this as STAR is partially funded federally. My hands are tied."

"Not mine," said Batman.

Gordon replaced his glasses and looked up. Batman was gone.

"Watch yourself, my friend," Gordon said silently to himself. "I'm afraid you might be going up against a bigger opponent on this one than even you're used to."

Batman returned to the Batmobile and turned to the onboard computer link. "Computer, locate Robin."

The automated voice responded instantly. "ROBIN IS CURRENTLY LOCATED IN BATCAVE GYMNASIUM ANNEX."

Batman nodded approvingly to himself. Tim hadn't been home from school long and he was already doing his daily workout. "Establish communication link to Gym Annex, standard encryption."

"CONNECTION ESTABLISHED."

"Sorry to tear you away from your regimen," said Batman. "But I have a job for you."

"Hey, no problem," replied Tim. "The kind of day I've had, I could use some non-school related extracurricular work. What's up?"

"I assume you heard of the murder at STAR Labs?"

"Yeah, it was in the Cray's archives when I got here. Are you there now?"

"Just leaving Gordon's. I'm sending you data I've gleaned so far from the incident. I need you to intercept something from some government agents."

Tim paused. "Government? Sounds interesting."

"It gets better. I have reason to believe Dr. Will Magnus is in danger from these men. I haven't proof of it yet…but until then, I'd feel safer if he was in our custody. He may very well be the only witness to the identity of the murderer. Review the data I'm sending. I want him intercepted and in our hands. Above all, Magnus mustn't leave Gotham."

"Understood. Where will you be?"

"Checking out a lead. I'll meet up with you as soon as possible. Remember: the government agents must not detect your presence, understood?"

"Totally. I'll be in touch," said Tim. Batman terminated the communication. He brought out his handheld and sent all the pertinent data to the Batcave central computer for Robin's review. He knew Tim would have questions upon viewing it…but they would have to wait. He needed Magnus taken out of government hands and also to keep Robin busy. Robin had always had a fairly cordial relationship with Catwoman and until he was positive about her involvement, Batman wanted him only peripherally involved…for now.

The main crux of the investigation was on Catwoman, innocent or not. Robin could handle Magnus's interception. He had to question Catwoman before the DEO got to her. That meant finding her as soon as possible. He had an idea where to start looking.

More than 30 minutes later, Batman was on a rooftop across from a luxury condominium complex in Gotham's East End. His surveillance intel had last shown Selina Kyle, aka Catwoman, taking up residence in this tower.

She was a thief, a criminal, in base action not that unlike the thugs he takes down every patrol. She has stolen priceless valuables from sinner and saint alike. When Nigma or Cobblepot did the same, he trussed them up and left them daggling in front of police headquarters. And yet he knew where to find her, and did nothing. He had trusted her before and always seemed to feel right about it, however else he had actually shown it, to her and others. He'd let her walk in to and out of the Watchtower for Pete's sake. She had a moral code, albeit a flawed one. He refused to believe she had committed murder. This refusal was dangerous, especially when one was a detective. He had to trust his ability to remain impartial. Now that trust seemed hollow and more than a little empty.

Batman used his new cowl lenses to zoom in on the penthouse suite. For all intents and purposes, it seemed empty. A couple of cats walked along the bay window, but otherwise everything was quiet. The sun was down, but darkness was not here yet. He decided to wait for a while and if necessary, enter the premises under cover of darkness.

A noise sounded behind him, quiet, barely audible. But enough to tell him he wasn't alone. He whirled around, prepared to handle whoever it might be.

Who he saw was not the last person he ever expected…but it was close.

"Well, well, long time no see. I see we're after the same thing."

It was Slade Wilson, otherwise known as Deathstroke the Terminator. His posture was relaxed, almost casual. Yet beneath his armour tensed muscles betrayed he was ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. But then what else would one expect from one of the world's premiere professional superhuman mercenaries?

"I'm going to give you one chance to leave." Batman drew himself into his cape, his stare intense, his irritation almost tangible. Even Superman was known to be taken aback by this look. "You're not welcome here, Wilson."

"I don't think so, Wayne," said Deathstroke, more amused than intimidated. "I'm on the side of the angels this time." He pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open. "I'm a duly deputized US Marshal. See, they tapped me to do what you won't… take Kyle down. Which means unless you're here to bring Catwoman in yourself, you're in the wrong on this one. So I'm giving you one chance to leave, or I'm going to break your back again, and get you strung up on federal charges. She's wanted for murder. I'm the man who's going to take her in…and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Nothing personal."

Batman's suspicions of the DEO deepened considerably. Selina, what the hell have you gotten into?

Across Gotham, a vengeful man watched the news broadcasts with great interest. There was so much crime in Gotham. The world was corrupt, but Gotham seemed to be the black heart that rested in the center of it all. It needed vindication and forgiveness. It needed to be rid of the evil that had rooted itself into this once great city. Gotham needed justice.

His justice.

The vengeful man got up and walked over to the far wall of his living room. He pushed on a portion of the wood panelling and stepped back as the wall moved out and opened to show a doorway leading to a staircase. He descended and came into an old chamber over a hundred years old. There was a tunnel at the far end that exited into an adjunct of the Gotham City transit system that had been closed and shut down for years. Now, it served his purposes. Around the dank chamber was a home-made gym with punching bag, free weights and attack dummies. Beside that, was a workbench that had an assortment of tools. A closer look revealed several weapons in progress of construction. Next to the workbench was a movable closet. The vengeful man opened it. Inside was a uniform, crimson in color. A dark cloak was draped over the shoulders. Above the cloak was a metallic demon-like helmet.

The vengeful man stood and watched for several minutes at the uniform. The drone of the news channel upstairs beat into his head. Crime…murder…robbery…rape… vandalism…drugs… It was boring into his very spirit. Something needed to be done. He would be ready…not yet…but soon. Gotham would have a truly worthy and deadly scourge against crime. A true bringer of justice.

His beeper went off.

The vengeful man checked the beeper display, sighed and went back upstairs. He closed the wall access and went to the front hallway. As he came to the door, he grabbed his overcoat and checked his pockets. His wallet was there…his car keys…and his GCPD detective's shield.

Time to go to work.

Next Issue: "Hunting the Cat" continues as Batman faces Deathstroke and Robin finds himself caught up with the DEO!