From Gotham to Las Vegas

An Extremely Inconvenient Time

"The Riddler?" Robin asked confused.

"The one and only," Zsasz responded.

"How does Riddler come into play here?" Nightwing demanded.

"What do you mean 'come into play'?  He was the one who gave me my initiation to this gang.  If anyone knows who my employer is, it's him," Zsasz said confidently.

"Do you know where Riddler is?" Red Hood asked.

"Yup," Zsasz answered.

"Where?"

"The court declared Eddie sane a few weeks ago, so he's being transferred to a maximum security prison," Zsasz replied.

"What is this maximum security prison's name?"

"Belle Reve."

"Isn't that in Louisiana?" Robin asked.

"It is," Zsasz answered.  "But there was a prison fire, and Belle Reve is under reconstruction.  If you ask me the prison fire was a little too convenient."

"What do you mean?"

"Las Vegas has a holding facility for the prisoners of Belle Reve.  Sometime tomorrow a bus is dropping off the inmates.  I think someone was paid off, maybe a guard to make the fire.  If someone wanted to extract an inmate, it would be easier to extract the inmate from a bus than from Belle Reve," Zsasz explained.

"Nightwing, the police are coming," Oracle warned.

"Okay, thanks for the heads up," Nightwing replied.

Once the authorities were on-scene, all that was left of the wrecked interrogation was Zsasz and his gang hanging upside down from the ceiling of the casino.

"Do you think Zsasz was telling the truth?" Damian asked, stripping off his domino mask as he spoke.

"He was," Dick confirmed.

"How do you know?"

Dick turned his laptop to the Belle Reve confidential inmate transfer page.

"Several buses are scheduled to take inmates from Belle Reve to the holding facility here."

 "Which bus is Riddler on?" Jason asked.  He automatically reached for a pen and when he couldn't find one, made a frustrated noise.

"Bus three," Dick said looking at his laptop.  He raised an eyebrow at Jason.  "There aren't any pens in here.  But I think your gun is under the bed."

"If someone paid a guard off to light the fire, then couldn't the guard driving bus three be a crooked prison guard?"

"It's possible."

"Than we need two people who we trust to drive the bus to the holding facility," Jason shrugged matter-of-factly.  He flicked the safety on before he began to take it apart.

"According to the transfer page, since the road trip from Louisiana to Las Vegas is so long, they make stops, the last and nearest stop is entering the Nevada border.  Remember Saint Louis?"

"Wait, you want to pull a Saint Louis repeat performance?"

"Hell, yeah," Dick exclaimed.  He drummed his long fingers against his laptop.  "Why not?"

"We barely pulled that off then, and that was when we had a week's worth of prep time," Jason pointed out, sliding out the clips as he spoke.

"C'mon, for old time's sake," Dick pleaded.

"Fine.  But for the record, I hate the old times," Jason muttered.  "I always wound up getting screwed over."

The next day at the Nevada boarder...