"Police! I need to commandeer your car!"
William flagged down an SUV and dragged the owner out before he could even refuse.
Stuart reacted as fast as a brand-new computer fresh off the production line. One second, he was standing behind the glass door, holding a bag of food and about to stuff the receipt into his pocket; the next, he had tossed his umbrella aside and climbed through the rear window with half a meat pie between his teeth.
"What's going on now?"
"We've got a new lead, as long as we can catch the guy driving up ahead."
William floored the accelerator, and the force pinned them both against their seatbacks.
Rain hammered the windshield, and the wipers swung wildly. The sports car ahead wove through traffic, its taillights swaying and flashing like a drunk hottie on a dance floor.
Even weaving around like that, the sports car still outperformed an ordinary family vehicle by an order of magnitude. William could have stomped the accelerator straight into the transmission, and the gap would still have widened.
He strongly suspected the target hadn't even noticed anyone was following him.
Stuart leaned out the window, snapped the side mirror off the Toyota beside them, and hurled it.
The lightweight mirror struck the car without so much as scratching its paint. All it accomplished was pissing off the Toyota's occupants, and its driver hit the gas to pull alongside William.
A young white man rolled down the rear window and, swearing furiously, pulled a shotgun from beneath his seat.
Before he could even level the barrel, Stuart snatched it away.
"Can I shoot?" he asked, turning toward William.
"Go ahead, go ahead! We're already in this deep!"
Like a T-800 with its prohibition on killing lifted, Stuart pumped the shotgun and fired three blasts in succession, showering the Ferrari with sparks and blowing out its left rear tire.
Woo-hoo!!!
Watching the Ferrari fishtail ahead of them, William slapped the steering wheel in excitement. Stuart started pounding on the door too.
These two were lunatics!
The Toyota whose passenger had just tried to threaten them with a gun slowly eased off and lowered its windows.
After a thrilling bout of fishtailing, the Ferrari miraculously steadied itself. But the blown rear tire slowed it down, its wheel rim grinding against the road and trailing a brilliant shower of sparks.
The gap gradually closed. Sensing the threat, the driver ahead jerked the steering wheel and swung sharply into an alley.
Clutter filled the narrow alley, and the car's doors scraped against the mottled walls with an ear-splitting screech. But the desperate fugitive couldn't afford to care and kept stomping on the gas.
The Ferrari slowed dramatically, but unfortunately, William's SUV couldn't fit into the alley at all. The two of them had to get out and pursue on foot.
Just as the other man was about to escape the alley, Stuart raised the shotgun and fired again. The right rear tire burst with the shot.
"Was that luck? Why are you such a good shot?"
"Who knows!"
Stuart smirked, leaped onto the car's roof with the shotgun in hand, and smashed the windshield with its stock.
The empty driver's compartment reeked of alcohol. White powder was even scattered across the seat.
When he looked up again, a figure was sprinting toward the road.
On the other side of the road lay the Gotham River.
By the time they reached the roadside, a splash rang out from the dark water.
Stuart immediately started taking off his pants, but William raised a hand to stop him.
"No need. Just wait."
The scattered lights across the river reflected in William's eyes.
While the man was fleeing just now, William had already planted a beacon on him.
An unfamiliar name appeared in the system, with no portrait or favorability rating.
Clearly, this wasn't a character he could win over, but William could still track his position in real time through his latitude and longitude.
The Gotham River was bone-chilling in winter. The man wouldn't last long in the water.
While they waited, William made sure to call the police from a public phone booth by the road.
But the first to arrive wasn't Gordon. It was a Rolls-Royce.
"Hide for now. Don't let them see your face."
William patted Stuart, who understood what he meant.
"You think these people are from Wayne Enterprises?"
"Most likely. I don't know who today's little performance was meant for, but it's better if they don't see you."
Once Stuart was safely hidden, William wiped the rain from his face and drew the gun tucked behind his waist.
"Police. Identify yourselves."
The headlights drew closer, and William raised his gun.
The front of the Rolls-Royce stopped at his toes. William could even feel the heat from the engine baking his thighs.
A bodyguard wearing sunglasses stepped out of the front passenger seat and walked around the back of the car with an umbrella.
The rear door opened, and a pair of ivory pointed leather shoes stepped into a puddle.
The gray-haired old man straightened his scarf, first glancing at the sports car wedged in the alley's mouth, then turning his gaze toward the Gotham River surging through the darkness.
Nearly a minute passed before he finally looked at William.
During that time, more and more vehicles arrived at the riverbank. Some people set up searchlights, while others carried tracking devices. Before long, they hauled a shivering man out of the water.
They were too far away for William to make out the man's face.
With the job done, the old man gave his subordinates a look.
As the men prepared to climb back into their cars, William, who had been ignored, raised his voice.
"Police! Identify yourselves!"
"I have no need to explain anything to you. Norman will give you your answer."
"Take one more step and I'll shoot! The suspect is wanted for dangerous driving. If you don't hand him over, I have the authority to use force!"
The bodyguard beside the old man took off his glasses.
Just as the standoff reached breaking point, a shout came from among the convoy.
"Wait... wait..."
A man in gold-rimmed glasses ran over. William recognized him as the lawyer who had brought Dares's psychiatric assessment to the hospital room earlier.
The lawyer bent down and whispered a few words into the old man's ear.
The old man's expression shifted repeatedly, his eyebrows rising one moment and his lips tightening the next.
After hearing the news, he took the umbrella from his bodyguard.
As everyone else withdrew one after another, the headlights cast reflections through the downpour.
"Allow me to introduce myself. Harold Wayne. I didn't expect you to be William. Was all this a coincidence, or was it destiny?"
"I don't want to hear some old geezer whispering sweet nothings. It'll give me nightmares!"
William kept his gun trained on him, a smile of triumph curling his lips.
The only reason he had sought out Floyd was to learn what his client was up to. Although Deadshot had ultimately escaped, William had still achieved his goal.
At last, he had met the prime suspect behind the entire conspiracy.
Harold Wayne, you certainly made me work to find you!
"Mr. William Maroni, let's stop testing each other and speak plainly. Drop the investigation, and I'll give you a check. You can fill in the amount yourself."
Harold took out his checkbook and signed his name with it resting on his palm.
"Another bribe. I'm curious. You haven't inherited Wayne Enterprises yet, so what gives you the confidence to let me name any price?"
The old man's wrist trembled. Rain dripping from the umbrella's tip blurred the blue ink on the checkbook.
Just as Harold had woven William's vulnerability into their conversation to intimidate him, William had slipped a counterattack into his reply: I know your plan. Get rid of Bruce Wayne and take control of Wayne Enterprises.
With his meticulously laid plan exposed by a young upstart, Harold Wayne even began to wonder whether someone close to him had leaked information.
"How much else do you know?"
Unable to suppress his fear, he adopted a more deferential tone of his own accord.
"Starting with you teaming up with the Mad Hatter to ambush Batman."
William didn't even feel like probing with a question. With his secret exposed, Harold had completely fallen apart. The calculating businessman had even forgotten to conceal his expression.
Every wrinkle in his aged face held fear and disbelief.
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