Coast City, eleven at night.
As the plane touched down, the sea breeze swept across the apron.
Dragging a black suitcase, Yang Ming walked out of the airport terminal and glanced up at the distant city lights.
It was nothing like Gotham.
The nights here had no stench of rot rising from the gutters, no sirens chasing gunfire. Sports cars lined both sides of the coastal highway, and neon bar signs reflected off the wet pavement. A few young people passed him carrying surfboards.
Everything looked peaceful.
Yang Ming flagged down a taxi.
"The Bay Hotel."
The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"First time in Coast City, sir?"
"More or less."
"Here on vacation?"
"Looking for someone."
The driver smiled. "Your girlfriend?"
Yang Ming adjusted his glasses.
"A man who likes flying planes, has a lousy temper, and gets into a lot of trouble."
The driver fell silent for two seconds.
"Hope you two are happy together."
Yang Ming: "..."
People in this city had comprehension problems.
Twenty minutes later.
A suite on the seventeenth floor of the Bay Hotel.
Yang Ming set down his suitcase and took off his suit jacket, planning to shower before finding a way to check Ferris Aircraft's personnel roster.
Hal Jordan would not be hard to find.
An elite test pilot with flying skills maxed out and a temper as foul as if he had just been fished out of a fuel tank.
Someone like that stood out wherever he went.
Yang Ming had just undone his cuff links when the lights in the room suddenly flickered.
Bzzzt-
Outside the window, a ball of green light plunged straight down from the clouds.
It was incredibly fast.
Before the windowpane could even rattle, the green light had passed through the wall and