Gotham's early-summer nights were blazing. Palm trees swayed before neon signs by the beach. With a pop, a fingerless-gloved hand opened a beer. White foam spilled out. The flowing beer carved a path through the cold condensation on the can like Moses parting the sea, then washed aside fine grains of sand on the uneven wooden table. It trickled through the gaps in the wood grain onto the beach, swept up more sand, and slid into the pits left by plastic slippers.
A slippered foot tapped lightly against the ground. A hand in a tactical glove rested on the arm of a chair. Arkham Knight pulled the mask up over his chin and took several gulps of beer.
"Latest call from Washington." Robin set down his beer can and said, "The Justice League is building a new base. Right here in Gotham. See that stretch of ocean? There'll soon be another ugly building there."
"Don't put it like that, Robin." Barbara shook her head gently. Her reddish-gold hair fluttered in the evening breeze, while the shadows of palm fronds flickered across her red-and-white polka-dot headband.
"Ever since he became president, every building he's put up in Gotham has been ugly. Is that what you were going to say?" Nightwing cut Barbara off. Barbara merely gave him a helpless look.
"We didn't gather here today to discuss such boring nonsense." Arkham Knight set down his beer can with a dull thud and declared decisively, "We can't let the Justice League go on like this."
"What do you mean?" Barbara asked.
"They aren't loyal enough," Arkham Knight said. "They want preferential treatment without paying the price. They fear power, yet refuse to take action. And Bruce has chosen to let them run wild. Do you really think this can continue?"
"You mean