The Gotham docks at night were a maze of shipping containers, warehouses, and shadows. Perfect hunting ground for criminals. Perfect hunting ground for Batman.
Bruce crouched on top of a container stack, his cowl's tactical display showing heat signatures inside warehouse seventeen. Fifteen people. Twelve clearly armed based on their positions and postures. Three showing distress markers that suggested they were restrained victims.
"Confirming three hostages," NEXUS reported through his earpiece. "Female, ages appear to be late teens to early twenties based on thermal imaging. Likely part of Moretti's trafficking operation. Armed guards are using standard criminal loadout: handguns, a few shotguns, one assault rifle."
"Acknowledged. Beginning approach."
Batman dropped from the containers and moved through the shadows toward the warehouse. His cape billowed slightly in the wind off the river. The night was cold, but his body temperature regulation was perfect thanks to peak human physiology.
He reached the warehouse's side door and picked the lock in seconds. The mechanism was cheap, designed to keep out casual intruders, not someone with his training.
The interior was dimly lit. Voices echoed from the main floor area. Batman stayed to the perimeter, using the darkness and support beams for cover.
"Boss says the shipment moves tomorrow night," one guard was saying. "Three girls go to the Burnley buyer, the rest get split between the usual clients."
"What about the one who keeps crying? She's going to be trouble."
"Moretti said to drug her if she doesn't shut up. Can't have her making noise during transport."
Batman felt cold fury settle in his chest. These weren't hardened killers or crime bosses. They were opportunistic predators who saw human beings as merchandise. The kind of criminals who destroyed lives without a second thought.
'They won't get the chance to destroy any more,' he thought.
He pulled a smoke pellet from his utility belt and studied the guard positions. Fifteen total. Four near the hostages. Five patrolling the perimeter. Six clustered around a makeshift break area playing cards.
If he took out the perimeter guards quietly, he could breach through the break area and secure the hostages before anyone could use them as shields.
Batman moved like a shadow, staying in the darkest sections of the warehouse. The first perimeter guard never saw him coming.
Thud.
A precise nerve strike dropped the guard unconscious. Batman caught him and lowered him silently to the ground. Zip-tied his wrists and ankles. One down.
The second guard was twenty feet away, facing the opposite direction. Batman closed the distance in seconds and repeated the process. Another nerve strike, another unconscious criminal.
Two down. Thirteen to go.
The third and fourth perimeter guards were close together, talking in low voices about the upcoming payday. Batman waited for the right moment, then moved fast.
He struck the first guard in the throat, a carefully measured blow that wouldn't cause permanent damage but would make breathing difficult for several minutes. As the man gasped and clutched his neck, Batman spun and caught the second guard with an elbow to the temple.
Crack!
Both went down. Batman zip-tied them quickly and dragged them into the shadows.
Four down. Eleven to go.
The fifth perimeter guard was the alert one. He'd noticed the silence where his companions should have been radio checking in. His hand was on his gun, eyes scanning the darkness.
"Tony? Marco? You guys there?"
Batman stayed absolutely still in the shadows ten feet away. Patient. Waiting.
The guard took two steps toward where Batman had left the unconscious guards. His flashlight swept across the area.
"What the hell?"
Batman moved. He grabbed the flashlight from the guard's hand and crushed it, plunging them both into darkness. Before the guard could react, Batman struck. A palm strike to the solar plexus folded him over. A follow-up strike to the back of the head put him down.
Five down. Ten to go.
Now came the hard part. The six guards in the break area and the four near the hostages.
Batman pulled out three smoke pellets and moved to a position where he could hit the break area hard and fast. He primed the pellets and threw them in rapid succession.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
Gray smoke exploded through the area. Shouts of confusion immediately erupted.
"What the hell is this?"
"We're under attack!"
"Where's Moretti?"
Batman launched himself into the chaos. The first guard stumbled out of the smoke, coughing. Batman's fist caught him in the jaw.
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