“Foley,” he said.

“It’s a trap!” Blake’s voice shouted. “Pull everyone out! Bane’s been pouring concrete laced with explosives—”

Foley froze in his tracks.

“Where?”

“There’s a ring around the tunnels, Blake answered. “They’re gonna blow it and trap the cops underground!”

Foley spun around and stared back at the mouth of the tunnel, which suddenly seemed dangerously far away. His mouth went dry.

“Pull out!” he shouted. “Pull ’em out!”

He raced toward the light.

The boiler room was in a sub-basement of the stadium, far below the cheering crowds. With all eyes on the field, no one was watching as Bane’s men broke through the basement floor. Drills and explosive charges had carved out a path from the tunnels below. The mercenaries climbed up into the stadium.

Bane emerged from the underground. His utility harness was strapped to his chest.

The National Anthem could be heard wafting down from above. He imagined thousands of sports fans, standing at attention as they paid tribute to bombs bursting in the air. No doubt the mayor had his hand over his heart.

The mercenaries advanced to the empty locker room tunnels. They took out their detonators. Bane cocked his head at the sound of the kickoff, like a hunting dog scenting the wind.

Now, he decided.

“Let the games begin.”

The men hit the detonators.

Foley scrambled for the light. Along with his men, he raced out of the subway tunnel only heartbeats before explosions rocked the underground. The tunnel roof collapsed behind him, and enormous slabs of concrete crashing down onto the tracks. Sparks flared from the electrified third rail.

A billowing cloud of dust and debris filled the station. Booming echoes were amplified by the tunnel walls, forcing him to throw his hands over his ears. Cops and SWAT team members dived for cover. An injured officer screamed.

Somehow Foley managed to stay on his feet. Panting, he made it all the way back to the passenger platform before turning around to inspect the damage. Pulverized stone and concrete caked his sweaty face. He coughed hoarsely, choking on the dust. His eyes bulged from their sockets.

Oh my God…

Tons of fallen concrete blocked the mouth to the tunnel. Frantic radio reports, coming from all around the city, confirmed Blake’s dire prediction. Explosions and cave-ins had closed off every entrance to the underground, trapping thousands of cops beneath the city. Foley gazed in horror at the heap of rubble. He may have gotten out just in time, but what about the rest of his people?

He already knew the answer.

Practically the entire GCPD had been buried alive.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The football spiraled through the air.

Come to daddy, the Gotham receiver thought as he caught the ball and made a break for the end zone. The hometown crowd went wild, screaming their lungs out as he started his run, pursued by the visiting linebackers. He ran past the mayor’s box, guessing that His Honor was cheering, as well, and ducked past a Rapid City cornerback who was trying to block him.