The rain was falling harder and harder.
Dense black clouds were like the lid over a boiling pot, steam continuously churning upward before cooling and falling back down, cold as seawater beneath a glacier and hot as magma shooting into the sky.
The rain had become so heavy that it completely obscured visibility. The two towering pylons of Gotham Bridge resembled a giant's upraised arms, while the thunderous noise of armed helicopter rotors slicing through the rain nearly drowned out the conversation inside the cabin.
"Damn it, this place always has this godawful weather. If I'd known, I would've called in sick tonight too." The helicopter pilot impatiently adjusted his goggles. "Supporting Gotham? Don't make me laugh! We should find somewhere sheltered to wait it out, then report that the mission's complete when we get back. There isn't anything in this city worth saving anyway."
"Don't be stupid, Hank. We're here to retrieve something. If this city weren't so dangerous, would we need an armed helicopter? The weather's getting worse. See if you can connect to Wayne Enterprises' radio channel and have them find us somewhere to land."
The helicopter pilot glanced down through the window, but the rain was too heavy for him to see anything. He had no choice but to raise his head and look ahead again. Then, within the deep curtain of rain, he saw a pair of solitary ghostly eyes.
"God! What is that?!!"
Hearing the pilot's cry, his two companions immediately rushed forward to look.
"Fuck, am I hallucinating? That looks like a car? And it's flying through the air?!"
"Wait! What's that on its tail fin? Why is it on fire?... Fuck, it's a missile! A missile! Evasive action!! Evasive action!!!"
Zzzzt—
"What the hell is going on?" Barbara violently spun her wheelchair,