Batman frowned as the last two bikes disappeared under another overpass, out of range. He holstered the electromagnetic pulse rifle, which had taken out the first two fugitives. Then he gunned the engine. He would have to eliminate the remaining criminals the old-fashioned way.

Works for me, he thought grimly. I’m coming for you, Bane.

The Bat-Pod hurled down the highway.

* * *

“Call everyone in,” Foley barked into the radio, turning the back of Blake’s patrol car into a mobile command center. The cord was stretched taut between the dashboard and the back seat. “Every patrol car, beat cop—off-duty, too. Call ’em all them in. Close every street. Now!”

The city rushed past them as Blake pushed the patrol car to its limits. The speedometer crept toward three digits. Foley stared out the windows impatiently. He drummed his fingers against the seat cover.

“I’m gonna do what Gordon never could,” he predicted.

“What’s that?” Blake asked.

“I’m going to take down the Batman.”

Blake just remained silent. Batman wasn’t a danger to Gotham, no matter what people said. He was more worried about the felons who had just pulled off such an ambitious strike on the stock exchange.

“Sir, what about the armed robbers?” he asked.

Foley ignored the question.

Reports poured in over the radio. All around the city, the GCPD was mobilizing in force. Police cars, vans, and motorbikes flooded the streets, joining the chase. Choppers whirred overhead, their spotlights sweeping the highways below. Even the canine units were being activated.

But to capture whom?

* * *

The highway stretched in front of Bane. He pulled up alongside McGarrity’s bike. The computer hacker glanced inside his bag, which was stowed up by the handlebars. He held up his fingers to signal that the program still had two minutes to run.

His was the only bike not weighed down with a hostage.

Bane glanced behind him, seeing the spreading darkness that had already brought down two of his men. He recognized the effects of a localized EMP generator. He could think of only one individual in Gotham who might employ such a device.

The Batman.

So he made a decision. He reached back and plucked a whimpering hostage off his own bike and swung him over onto McGarrity’s. The hacker’s vehicle wobbled under the increased load, losing speed. The displaced trader clung desperately to its driver.

No longer saddled with a worthless waste of flesh, Bane’s bike accelerated. He peeled away from the other rider, making his escape. He glanced back once more. As he had anticipated, Batman chose to pursue the bike with the hostage. Compassion had always been his weakness.

Bane smiled behind his mask. The time would come when he would face Rā’s al Ghūl’s greatest mistake— but not tonight. He had other business to address.

Another day, betrayer.

A police chopper reported in to Foley.

“One bike’s veered off, no hostage.”

Foley listened without responding.

“Should we pursue?” the spotter asked via the radio.