“I won’t forget about you,” he promised.

Their eyes met across the grimy basement. She smiled sadly.

“I know.”

Catwoman rolled her eyes before gesturing to have her prisoners marched from the dungeon. Rifles in hand, the guards prodded the two captives along. Selina fell back between the thugs.

She waited until they were beneath the shadows of the towering marble colonnade before turning on the two soldiers in an almost balletic display of violence. A spiked heeled disarmed one man, only a split second before she slammed his head into the side of a column while simultaneously laying out the other guard with an open-handed jab to the throat. She moved with the speed and agility of her feline namesake.

A slender pick withdrawn from her belt quickly unlocked Fox’s handcuffs, then Bruce’s. He smiled and rubbed his wrists.

“I like your girlfriend, Mr. Wayne.”

“He should be so lucky,” she said before slipping away into the shadows between the columns. Within seconds, it was as if she was never there.

Fox arched an eyebrow at Bruce, who just shrugged in response.

They were free, and they had work to do.

Bright fluorescent lights flickered on, exposing a stark rectangular chamber hidden deep beneath a shipping yard owned by Wayne Enterprises. The bunker had served as an auxiliary base of operations during the restorations to the mansion, several years back. A bank of computer monitors occupied one wall, while the rest of Batman’s equipment was stored away in hidden compartments.

It had been kept intact for those times when it simply wasn’t convenient to rush all the way back to the manor. That it remained so made it clear that Bane was unfamiliar with this particular storehouse.

Bruce considered his options.

“Any move I make against Bane or the bomb, the trigger man sets it off.”

“They can’t be using radio or cell,” Fox theorized. “Too much interference. Infrared doesn’t have the range. It could only be micro-burst long wave.”

Bruce concurred with Fox’s assessment.

“Could you block it?”

“Yes, but I need the EMP cannon guidance mount from the Bat.” He gave Bruce a wry look. “You remember where you parked?”

Bruce nodded. He opened a concealed panel in the wall, exposing a well-stocked armory. He took out explosive mini-mines, Batarangs, the grapple gun, his Utility Belt—all his old tools and weapons.

“Mr. Wayne?” Fox interjected. “Might be time for a shave.”

Bruce raised a hand to his chin, feeling the bristling growth there, and conceded that Fox probably had a point. It wouldn’t do for the Dark Knight to go into battle looking like Robinson Crusoe.

Doesn’t really go with the image.

He pressed a button and a wire mesh cage rose from the floor. Inside the cage were a familiar black suit, cowl, and cape. He smiled grimly. Alfred had always encouraged him to buy in bulk. And he couldn’t fault the logic.

It never hurt to have a spare.

* * *

This is a travesty, Gordon thought grimly. A joke.