“Why are you here?” the man asked. Gordon guessed this was Bane.

The thugs tossed Gordon at his feet.

“Answer him!” one of them demanded.

Bane turned toward them. Gordon’s eyes widened at the sight of the elaborate apparatus concealing the giant’s nose and mouth. Some sort of gas mask? The commissioner sniffed the air, but detected only the stale atmosphere of the tunnels.

“I’m asking you,” Bane said, turning toward the two men.

“It’s the police commissioner,” one of them volunteered. Hearing this, Bane did not look pleased.

“And you brought him down here?” he asked.

“We didn’t know what to do,” the other man said, trying to explain. “We—”

“You panicked,” Bane said, cutting him off. “And your weakness cost three lives.”

The flunky looked around in confusion.

“No, he’s alone—”

Bane lunged forward with surprising speed. Before the man could even complete his sentence, Bane seized his head and twisted it sharply. An unmistakable crack ended the unlucky henchman’s life. His lifeless body dropped to the floor.

Good Lord, Gordon thought. He stared at Bane in horror. What kind of monster is this? The masked killer turned toward the remaining thug. Then he nodded in Gordon’s direction.

“Search him,” he ordered. “Then I will kill you.”

His intended victim gulped. All the blood drained from his sallow features. His knuckles tightened on the grip of Gordon’s captured pistol. He glanced around anxiously, no doubt searching for a way out, only to see Bane’s guards hefting their weapons. The soldiers had the battle-hardened look of professional mercenaries.

Escape was not an option.

The man held onto Gordon’s gun for a moment longer before meekly surrendering. He put it down, and a look of mournful resignation came over his face. Rummaging through the prone officer’s pockets, he took out Gordon’s wallet, badge, and several folded sheets of paper.

My speech, Gordon realized with alarm. Dear God, no…

The doomed felon handed the items over to Bane, who briefly examined them, one by one. They appeared to be of little interest to him, until he came to the papers. He skimmed the pages quickly, then paused and read through them more carefully. His eyes narrowed.

No one spoke. All eyes were on Bane and the poor stooge who was slated for execution. Nobody was paying any attention to Gordon as he lay sprawled on the floor of the chamber, not far from the edge of the platform. He could hear the water surging by several feet below. The spray from the twin cataracts rose up to spatter him.

He cautiously lifted his head to make sure no one was watching.

This is it, he realized. This could be my only chance. Adrenaline cut through the cloudiness fogging his brain, and he rolled frantically over the edge of the platform, splashing into the churning waters below.

Instantly he sank beneath the surface. He tried to hold his breath, but the cold water gushed into his mouth and nose. The current caught hold of him and started to carry him away.