Penguin's Counterattack: A Citywide Manhunt!

Inside the underground brewery, the excitement was swiftly giving way to a cold reality.

Spike and dozens of his men crowded around several crates of brand-new assault rifles, stroking them like lovers, their faces alight with the joy of a new lease on life.

Just then, a lookout stumbled in, pale as a ghost.

"Boss! Bad news!" His voice shook. "Penguin's gone crazy! He's sent everyone out looking for us!"

The smile froze on Spike's face.

He snatched the man's phone. On the screen was an intelligence forum for Gotham's underworld.

A bounty notice pinned to the top in blood-red letters seared itself into everyone's eyes.

"WANTED: One man and one woman. Descriptions unknown. Fifty thousand for a lead. Two hundred thousand for their exact location. One million for their heads!"

One million!

The number hit everyone there like a boulder.

The brewery fell dead silent. Only the rush of air through the ventilation ducts remained.

In Gotham, a million dollars was enough to turn brothers against each other and make fathers and sons kill one another.

And now that money was on the heads of their "new bosses."

Spike could feel the morale his men had only just found being eaten away by fear and greed.

"What are you panicking for?" Spike roared, trying to steady them. "We've got guns and a hideout. Penguin won't find us that easily!"

But sweat had broken out on his forehead.

He knew better than anyone how much reach Penguin had in Gotham. Once that net spread, everyone from the bums on street corners to crooked GCPD officers would become Penguin's eyes and ears.

They were like bugs trapped in a glass jar. They might look safe, but someone could watch their every move.

"Sweetie, looks like we're Gotham's most expensive merchandise now."

Harley whistled, sounding casual, though her knuckles had gone faintly white around her Rhino pistol.

Only Link seemed untouched by it all. He stood before a huge map of Gotham, marking it with a red pen.

"Boss..." Spike began with difficulty. "We need to break out and hide outside the city. My men know a few secret routes..."

"And then?" Link asked without turning around. "Hide outside the city and fight like stray dogs over moldy bread every day? Run out of money, crawl back with our tails between our legs, and go right back to being Penguin's dogs?"

Spike had no answer.

Link put down the pen and turned to face his uneasy "first soldiers."

"Where are his men now?"

Spike paused, then answered, "Everywhere! The East End, the south side, the docks... They've torn apart every place we used to operate!"

"Good." Link nodded, looking faintly pleased.

Good?

Spike was completely lost. He couldn't follow his new boss's thinking at all.

Link pointed to the red dots he had marked on the map: the areas Penguin's men were searching hardest.

"He's running around like a headless chicken, tearing apart every place he thinks 'rats' should hide. Bars, casinos, brothels, abandoned apartments..."

"But he'll never think to look for us here."

Link drove his finger down onto the industrial district where they stood.

"A place Gotham forgot fifty years ago. An underground brewery even the homeless turn their noses up at. For now, we're safe."

Everyone relaxed a little at that.

But Spike looked more worried than ever. "Boss, we're trapped here. Supplies will run out soon. We can't hide forever."

"Who said we were hiding?"

A cold smile curved Link's lips.

"The hunter thinks he's cast a net with no way out. He doesn't realize his greatest weakness is the home he thinks is safest."

He picked up a black pen and drew a large, defiant circle around the last place anyone would have expected.

The Iceberg Lounge!

"You're crazy... Boss, you've lost your mind!" Spike's eyes nearly popped out when he saw the location. "That's Penguin's palace! We couldn't break in even with ten times as many men!"

"Exactly! It has more guards than a small military base!"

"We'd be walking straight to our deaths!"

The newly recruited men erupted. The awe they had just begun to feel for Link shattered under the weight of his insane plan.

Only Harley's eyes gleamed with excitement.

"Oh? We're going to smash Oswald's little bird nest? I like it!"

Link ignored the uproar. He simply looked at Spike.

"Tell me. If your house caught fire, would you put it out first or keep chasing rats outside?"

Spike froze.

"Penguin sent everyone out. That means all his attention is outside." Link didn't raise his voice, yet it cut cleanly through the noise.

"He thinks we're rats who'll do nothing but scurry from one hiding place to another. So let's surprise him."

Link stepped before the men, his dark eyes sweeping over each of them.

"I don't need you to attack the Iceberg Lounge."

"I just need you to cause enough chaos at the other end of the city. Torch a few cars, blow up a few dumpsters, and keep Penguin's attention pinned to the west side."

"Harley and I will deliver him a big gift."

"One that'll force him to call every dog he sent out back to guard his home."

Link's plan was simple and brutal, but it struck at the heart of the problem.

Cut off the source!

Spike looked into Link's eyes, confident to the point of arrogance, then at the black circle on the map that promised both death and opportunity. His fear gave way to something hotter.

A flame called ambition.

He had never imagined he might one day challenge Penguin's authority at its very heart.

That was ten thousand times more thrilling than seizing territory or collecting protection money!

"Boss, are you sure... just the two of you?" Spike's voice trembled.

Link didn't answer. He tossed a backpack filled with C4 and timers onto the table.

"He wants to flush us out? Then we'll stand under the brightest spotlight in Gotham."

"Didn't he put a million-dollar bounty on our heads?"

Link picked up a black trench coat, a bloodthirsty smile curling his lips.

"Then we'll turn his Iceberg Lounge into a fireworks show worth a fortune, free for all Gotham to watch."