"Tch... look, you can't keep hiding in here forever."
Li Jie glanced sideways at Dick Grayson, who crouched beneath the windowsill, parted the blinds just enough to peek outside, then snatched his hand back as if he had been burned.
"He's still there."
"Who?" Jason leaned beside him, holding a bag of chips he had dug out of the police lieutenant's desk drawer. "Let me see."
"Get down." Dick yanked Jason back as he tried to climb onto the windowsill, and the two sat on the floor beneath the window, their backs against the wall.
"Gordon."
"Which Gordon?"
"Which Gordon do you think?" Dick said in a low voice. "Jim Gordon. Barbara's father. That Gordon."
"Oh!"
Jason chewed his snack and glanced at Dick. "Then you're screwed."
"I know." Dick buried his face in his knees, his reply muffled.
Down in the parking lot, an old gray sedan sat quietly outside the East End Police Department. Gordon had turned up the collar of his trench coat, and his graying hair caught a cold sheen beneath the evening streetlights. With both hands in his pockets, he looked like a statue that had stood in Gotham's wind for decades.
"Do you know how long he's been there?" Li Jie asked.
"Forty minutes." Dick's voice came from between his knees.
"Hmm..." Li Jie smacked his lips and let out a deep sigh, hearing the several officers gathered in the hallway outside to watch the show.
"We need to sort this out..."
Gordon leaned against his car door, took out his cigarette pack, and put a cigarette between his lips.
His lighter took two tries to catch. The flame flickered in the wind, and he cupped it with his hand until the cigarette tip began to glow.
As the nicotine entered his bloodstream,