"Hmm? Why were all these three thousand-plus drones carrying small radiation sources? Dirty bombs?"
Inside the knockoff cave, Deathstroke studied the Adjutant's latest discovery with Bobo. At the same time, he glanced up at Shazam, hidden in the shadows among the ceiling stalactites, making sure the latter was still playing games and would not casually interrupt.
"This monkey thinks these cute little tubes look more like Neutron Bombs."
Wiping the liquor from the black fur around his mouth, Bobo looked at the image on the screen. It resembled a small rocket, its body painted in Colonel Kaine's classic clashing black-and-red colors.
"I've seen Dirty Bombs made by Middle Eastern Big Mustaches in basements. All you need is a gas canister filled with nuclear waste, then use TNT or Cyclone Explosives to blow up the container. That scatters radioactive particulate dust everywhere within a thirty-kilometer radius. Ordinary people would die of agonizing Radiation Sickness from even a little exposure."
Simply put, the monkey meant that the Micro-missiles carried by these drones were far too refined. Dirty bombs worked by dispersing huge quantities of radioactive dust, so the larger they were, the better. More payload, after all.
And these miniature weapons clearly looked exquisitely made. They could not be the sort of Dirty Bombs some back-alley workshop could put together, but rather some kind of high-tech nuclear weapons.
Considering Colonel Kaine's style, Atomic Bombs and hydrogen bombs seemed unlikely. He wanted to occupy Gotham, not destroy it.
That made cleaner nuclear bombs after detonation, Neutron Bombs that killed people without wrecking buildings, far more suitable.
Once everyone in Gotham was dead, the Colonel could lead his men in to occupy the city. The buildings would all still be intact—an absolutely perfect handover, seamless and effortless. With the Colonel's connections to the United