Batman: In Every Shadow

Prologue

The engine's whine reached its highest pitch as the driver threw the vehicle into its highest gear. Moving with such unbelievable pace, even the streetlights overhead appeared as but one constant blur to the driver. His certainly unlawful speeding wasn't unwarranted, for he had to reach his destination as soon as possible. If even one person was hurt, he'd consider it a failure.

"I'm counting five hostages!"

An officer's voice cried over the radio. This was in no way a vehicle issued by the police department, but the owner did procure a radio set to listen in on the happenings of the city. Passing into a freeway tunnel, the radio begins to crackle and snarl. The driver attempts to better the reception but then has to relent when traffic emerges ahead. With two hands on the wheel, he masterfully works the gear shift and steering. Accelerating, decelerating, swerving, weaving; every move is done with precision and aptitude. Managing to make it out the other end without causing any damage, the driver kicks it back to maximum gear.

"They've locked every door down except the front!"

He grits his teeth, only a few more minutes until he arrives. Reaching for a radio, the driver prepares to ask a question into the line. As part of his setup, there's a built-in voice scrambler, disabling any chance of tracking or identifying the invader.

"How many gunmen?"

His voice is calm but stern, and when it gets scrambled through the modifier, it sounds almost demonic. Panicked by the new voice, the radio operator stammers, so he asks once more.

"How many?!"

"We counted twelve, plus the ringleader! All are armed with publicly available rifles, but we haven't heard or seen any gunshots yet! Preparing to breach in five minutes!"

'If they're publicly obtained-'

The driver thinks to himself while checking a watch seated on his left wrist.

'-they likely won't be capable of fully automatic firing unless they have a gunsmith in their ranks. Still, I should be careful about how I do this.'

His suit is compounded with top-of-the-line ultralight kevlar, a new variation that was handmade specifically for his use. The technology on his body is so highbrow, not even the military or government knows it exists. Capable of stopping rounds as large as 7.62 entirely while also being flexible and lighter than most alloys, his suit is a marvel of modern technology.

"We're getting demands from their boss, issued in the format of a letter! We need a negotiator right away!"

Just as the officer finished speaking, the driver downshifted rapidly and hit the brakes, drifting his vehicle into a small alleyway behind the building of note. There are no doors on the backside, only the ones at the front and a fire door to the east.

'The front isn't an option, that's obvious. I could enter through the fire door, but then it would announce my presence. I'll have to search for a window of some kind, if not then I always have this.'

He pats a small aerosol gun on his waist belt, the kind you'd see graffiti artists use to tag up walls. Inside the attached canister, is anything but paint, rather a chemical compound that's extremely volatile once making contact with oxygen. Keeping that as a last resort, the driver uses a different sort of gun. Attached to his right wrist is a projectile launching device and an intricate wiring system that spools at the crest of his lower back. With the press of a button that lies on the side of his gloved knuckle, the projectile device fires at a high speed. Nearly silent, a metallic anchor is launched, tethered by an incredibly high tensile strength cable. Burying itself into the wall at the top of the building, he then presses the button again, which propels him into the air. Brought to the destination of his anchor, the driver's grappling hook works wonders for reaching the high ground in a matter of seconds.