The SUV skidded to a stop on the gravel-strewn ground, its tires kicking up a choking cloud of yellow dust.
The door opened, and Victor Stone, Steel Bone, stepped out. His red electronic eye scanned the ruins before settling on Bruce's exhausted face.
"Don't waste your time, Bruce."
Steel Bone skipped the pleasantries and got straight to the point.
"I intercepted the Superman Regime's encrypted communications. Those supposed black-market leads are all traps. Every Kryptonite dealer was eliminated three days ago. Their heads are on display in a square in Metropolis."
Bruce's grip tightened slightly on his rifle.
"So the signal we received was bait..."
"Exactly. It's a trap meant to draw out the resistance and wipe them all out." Steel Bone continued, "I decrypted the signal and traced it here. Looks like I arrived just in time."
Then the man in the passenger seat climbed out and removed his tactical helmet, revealing white hair and a single eye.
Slade Wilson. Deathstroke.
The deadliest mercenary in the world calmly slung his assault rifle over his back, studying the battered-looking Batman with interest.
"Looks like our Dark Knight really has run out of luck." Slade glanced around at the Parademon corpses and scorched ground, his voice teasing.
"What, you have to look after that crazy woman yourself now?"
Bruce shot him a cold look, dropped his empty magazine, and reloaded.
"If you're here to collect, Slade, you'll have to get in line," Bruce said grimly. "I'm broke. Wayne Enterprises' assets have been worthless for a long time. I can't pay you."
"Money?"
Slade gave a cold laugh. He pulled a cigar from his tactical vest but didn't light it, instead holding it between his teeth and chewing on the pungent tobacco.
"Look at this world, Bat. Dollars are too stiff even