She saw no point in waiting any longer. Batman knew the truth now. He knew who had truly beaten him—and why. It was time to let Gotham burn, just as her father had intended long ago.

She pressed the firing button.

Nothing happened.

The truck rumbled down Fifth Street, jolting Gordon at every pothole.

He clung to the front of the trailer while watching the jammer intently. A blinking light indicated that it was doing its work, and promised at least a few more minutes of life for the city he had sworn to protect. Not for the first time, he thanked God for Batman and the amazing tools at his disposal.

Maybe Gotham still had a chance after all.

Talia stared in fury at the useless device in her hand.

“Your knife may have been too slow,” Batman said, his voice taunting.

Static squawked from a guard’s walkie-talkie. Scowling, he listened to an urgent message, then stepped forward.

“The truck’s under attack,” he reported.

Her mind racing, she put the pieces together. She knew who had been tracking the trucks.

“Gordon.” She glared at Batman. “You gave him a way to block my signal.” Then she shrugged and glanced at her watch. “No matter. He’s bought Gotham eleven minutes.” She called out to the guard. “Prepare a convoy. We must secure the bomb until it detonates.”

The core was already well-guarded, but why take chances? She wasn’t about to give Gordon and Fox an opportunity to pull off any last-minute feat of technical wizardry. The bomb was needed to fulfill her destiny.

Giving the blade one last twist, she sprang to her feet. Bane scrambled out from beneath. Gasping through his mask, he snatched a shotgun from the nearest mercenary and took aim at Batman.

But Talia stopped him.

“Not yet,” she said. “I want him to feel the heat.” Venom dripped from her voice as she faced the Dark Knight one last time. She wanted to savor this moment. “Feel the fire of twelve million souls you failed.”

Suddenly a groan escaped Bane’s damaged mask. What could be seen of his face was drawn with pain. No matter how stoic he strove to appear, she knew how much he was suffering. So she took a moment to carefully reconnect the tubes as best she could. He steadied himself as the soothing gas began to flow once again. That would relieve his torment to some degree, here at the end. It was the least she could do, after all he had endured for her.

“Goodbye, my friend,” she said softly.

Bane nodded back at her. They both knew that they would never see each other again—not in this life. Soon the fire would devour them all—just as they had planned. Vengeance was all they had lived for.

She spun and, flanked by her guards, exited the lobby, stepping out into the cold. Three tumblers awaited her. She climbed into the lead one, taking a seat beside the driver. The vehicles pulled out in a convoy.