The cool night breeze carried the salt of the sea in from Gotham Bay, making the rusty cranes around the docks sway slightly.
Ririko crouched in a corner between stacked shipping containers, wearing a black trench coat and knee-high black boots.
She held a small pair of binoculars, looking every bit like she was filming a detective movie.
Clark crouched beside her in a dark gray jacket, a camera with a telephoto lens hanging around his neck.
He braced the camera on his knee, adjusted the focus, and snapped several photos of the docks.
They were crouching on an abandoned loading platform, with a clear view through the gap between two large shipping containers, straight into the loading area-
Several military-green trucks were parked along the shore. People in black uniforms were moving large crates covered in tarps, their dimensions unlike those of ordinary cargo.
Ririko lowered her binoculars and glanced sideways at Clark.
"Be careful. Don't let them spot you. If they throw you into the sea, I'm not rescuing you."
Clark was adjusting the camera's aperture. He paused at her words, as though seriously considering how to address her concern.
"Oh... I'll be careful not to get thrown into the sea. Haha."
His awkward laugh sounded like a dry cough.
Ririko raised her binoculars again. "Being a reporter is a pretty dangerous job, too."
Clark lifted his face from behind the camera and nodded. "Yeah, pretty dangerous."
He privately reflected that it really was dangerous. One careless move, and he could cripple the bad guys around him. He always had to hold back whenever he struck.
He lowered his head and continued watching the docks through the viewfinder, his finger already resting on the shutter.
Before long, there was movement at the docks.
Several police cars drove in