"Bruce Wayne has gone missing in Safar."
In the news footage, the general was still holding up his wineglass.
Bruce stood beside him in a suit, his head lowered as he listened to someone speak. The silver platters in the photograph had yet to be cleared away, but the caption below the television image had already changed to the missing man's last public appearance.
Earlier, it had been a charity dinner.
Now it was footage from before the incident.
The banquet photographs supplied by the Government Forces were naturally very clear.
"As of now, the authorities in Safar have not announced Mr. Wayne's whereabouts. An armed group claiming responsibility has issued a statement demanding that the government provide weapons and daily necessities, and reopen certain trade routes."
The anchor paused.
A processed voice came from the screen.
"You take foreigners' money, block the roads, then charge people to pass."
"Now we want to collect a little, too."
The man in the recording swore a couple of times.
The station bleeped out one of them.
Then the screen switched to a photograph of a road. A truck stood outside a barricade, one corner of its tarpaulin turned back to reveal medical supply crates underneath. The driver crouched beside the front wheel, holding a repeatedly folded piece of paper.
The photographer's credit appeared at the bottom.
Peter Parker.
Peter dragged the photograph out on his computer.
The original showed another half-section of the truck's rear. He enlarged it and checked it again before lowering his head to reply to the newspaper's message.
"Don't use the second one. The child on the right needs their face blurred. Also, they're holding clothes, not food. Don't get that wrong in the caption. I asked when I took the picture."
Chen Mo sat beside him,