Batman stood atop Wayne Tower, the night wind howling past and snapping his cape. He lowered his gaze to the Bat-tracker in his hand. The flashing red dot on its screen was gradually closing in on the target location. This was where the tycoon David Antafoos had last appeared.
There were more "No Signal" markers on the target map than raindrops falling across the screen. The surveillance network he had painstakingly installed in Uptown had been utterly destroyed by Death Angel in less than a month.
He lightly pressed the communicator at his ear and said in a low voice, "Nightwing, activate the Batmobile's thermal scan. I need confirmation of life signs inside the building."
"Processing." Nightwing's steady voice came through the earpiece. Seconds later, a blue thermal image appeared over Batman's lenses. There were three figures in the villa: a woman and two children.
"Target confirmed," Batman said quietly. "Prepare to move."
Nightwing, who had climbed onto the roof with a grappling hook, leaped down. As nimble as a water bird, he landed silently in the yard.
But just as he approached the back door, he heard commotion from the front yard—women's screams, children's cries, and some indistinct, ominous words tangled together.
Nightwing instantly drew his weapon, flipped back onto the roof, and arched over the ridge to look toward the front entrance. A tall figure in a red cloak stood there.
The flaming longsword in Death Angel's hand burned in the darkness, its scorching glow illuminating the stern face beneath his hood.
"Death Angel, let them go!" Nightwing said darkly. He slid down from the eaves, hit the ground in a crisp roll, and charged at Death Angel.
Death Angel merely sneered. His flaming longsword swung sharply, its scorching blade aura tearing through the air. "And who ever