Murder at Wayne Manor

Chapter 25

Gotham; September 29th, 01:33 EST

Standing on the roof of the building adjacent to the old recycling plant, I carefully scan the area one more time with my binoculars before I finally decide it's time to go in. We've been out here scouting the area for over two and a half hours with no sign of anyone.

I glance at my partner for the evening, her posture revealing the fact that she's not going to wait for too much longer. She's been exceptionally patient in spite of herself tonight. She's been more than anxious to get inside the plant and investigate what she hadn't been able to this afternoon.

I know she considers it a failure that she lost those two men today, but nothing could be further from the truth. She had done exceptional work by following them like she had, allowing them to lead her to this place. She has been becoming less impulsive and far more patient, which is an impressive feat of self-control for her.

"Ready?" I ask her without taking my attention from the plant below.

She releases a huff of air, her posture straightening. "I thought you'd never ask," she replies with noticeable annoyance.

I can't help but smirk in response, knowing that I'd tested her to her very limits tonight. I tap my commlink. "Robin, we're going in."

"It's about time," he exclaims with his own sense of exasperation. "There's been nothing for hours."

I shake my head, knowing I've got two impatient partners on my hands. "We're going in on the west side. Contact me if you spot anything."

"Got it. Robin out."

"Ready, Nemesis?" I ask her.

"Nemesis?" she repeats, clearly surprised.

"If you're going to be out here with me, you need a codename," I remind her.

A smirk plays on her lips as she puts her hands on her hips, her head tilted in amusement. "I thought you said I didn't need a codename because this was never going to happen again?"

"This is just for tonight," I maintain, averting my gaze and schooling my features as I fire my grappling gun.

I hear her murmur something under her breath, but I don't catch it as I leap through the air to my destination. My cape whips in the wind that is beginning to pick up. There's a storm starting to roll in. Scattered raindrops begin to pelt my face, but I ignore it. I've done patrol in weather conditions far worse than this.

Landing lightly on the roof on the balls of my feet, Diana follows suit, landing right beside me with her typical agility and grace. Even dressed in black from head to toe, it's hard to disguise what comes so naturally to her.

Leaning over, I find an open window below us. I rappel down the side and through the window, Diana close on my heels as I begin to survey our surroundings. There's nothing here that appears to be connected in any way to the production of Ash.

"Stay close," I whisper to her as I make my way through the doorway.

We work our way through the offices and the endless trash that has been left behind by vagrants and teens looking for trouble. Coming to the end of the hall, I open the door, instantly bracing myself in the doorway, Diana running into me from behind.

"What is it?" she asks.

"The stairs are gone."

"Want me to carry us down?"