Grateful for his timely assistance, she fired the “borrowed” Glock, clipping an overeager goon, who dropped like a stone. She targeted a second man, aiming right between his eyes, but, before she could squeeze the trigger, Batman yanked her arm down, spoiling her shot.

He took out the goon with a well-placed kick to the gut instead.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she protested.

“No guns,” he growled. “No killing.”

She was both annoyed and amused by his scruples.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He didn’t reply as more men poured onto the roof. Catwoman recognized some of them from Bane’s underground militia. She was almost flattered by all this attention, but it was clearly time for a strategic retreat. Batman evidently felt the same way. He ran for the edge of the roof.

“Come on!” he gritted.

She watched in confusion as he flung himself off the top of the building, and hesitated momentarily before chasing after him.

Doesn’t he know that cats can’t fly?

A bullet whizzed past her, spurring her on. Hoping that Batman knew what he was doing, she ran across the roof and peered over the edge. Her eyes widened behind her mask.

A stealth aircraft hovered just below the edge of the roof, several stories above the street below. Batman waited in an open cockpit, surrounded by a complex array of matte-black elevators, vents, and ailerons.

Shots rang out behind her as she leapt. Landing nimbly on one of the smooth, aerodynamic panels, she slid into the passenger seat beside him.

Okay, she thought. Consider me impressed.

Powerful engines roared to life. A steel canopy hissed shut above the cockpit, taking gunfire from above. Bullets pinged off the armor plating. She tried not to let her relief show.

“My mother warned me about getting into cars with strange men.”

“This isn’t a car,” he pointed out.

The fantastic aircraft thundered into the sky. The downdraft forced all but one of the gunmen down onto the roof. The sole exception was an imposing masked figure who advanced slowly into the wind, refusing to be brought to his knees by a mere blast of air. His massive fists clenched at his sides.

Bane watched the Bat escape into the night.

Batman put a safe distance between themselves and Selina’s attackers before landing the Bat on the empty helipad of a midtown skyscraper. An EMP pulse took out any inconvenient lights and security cameras, ensuring their privacy for the moment.

He wanted to know what she had been up to at Daggett’s penthouse—and why Bane’s men were after her.

The canopy slid open above them, letting in the crisp night air. Selina sprang from the passenger seat.

“See you around,” she said breezily.

He followed her onto the roof, where he took a moment to admire her skintight outfit—which struck him as both practical and flattering. He of all people had to appreciate a flair for the dramatic.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“I had it under control,” she insisted.