Bruce sent a quick message to his driver and made his way to the parking lot. Twenty minutes later, he was in the Batcave, still wearing his tux, pulling up NEXUS's analysis on the main screen.
"Report," he said.
"Analysis of the past three weeks shows an interesting pattern," NEXUS began. "Batman operations have been successful against mid-level criminal organizations. But someone has been watching, learning, and adapting."
"Explain."
The screen filled with data. Security camera footage from various locations around Gotham. All showing the same thing: a figure in tactical gear, observing from a distance.
"Unknown individual has been surveilling Batman's operations. Advanced equipment, military-grade training evident in movement patterns. Most concerning: several incidents suggest capabilities beyond normal human range."
"What kind of capabilities?"
"Extraordinary accuracy. Observe."
The screen showed footage from two nights ago. A street-level drug deal Batman had interrupted. The criminals had scattered. One had made it three blocks away before collapsing.
"Autopsy report shows a single gunshot wound to the chest," NEXUS explained. "Bullet entered from an angle consistent with a rooftop firing position approximately 1,200 yards away. The shot was taken in high wind conditions with moving target. This level of accuracy is, for practical purposes, superhuman."
Bruce felt ice settle in his stomach. "You're saying there's a sniper in Gotham with impossible accuracy."
"Correct. And based on several other similar incidents, this individual has been eliminating criminals Batman misses or doesn't capture. Acting as, cleanup. Or possibly, sending a message."
"What message?"
"Unknown. But two hours ago, this was delivered to the Gotham Gazette."
An image appeared on screen. A simple note, typed on plain paper.
"Batman. You're impressive. But you're not the only hunter in this city. Let's see if you're as good as they say. One week. Be ready."
Bruce stared at the message. "Who sent this?"
"No identifiable fingerprints, DNA, or traceable elements. Professionally clean. But based on the accuracy profiles and operational patterns, I have a preliminary identification."
"Show me."
A dossier appeared. Military service records. Psychological evaluations. Mission reports.
"Floyd Lawton. Former military sniper. Dishonorably discharged after a mission went wrong. Suspected of becoming a contract killer. Last known alias: Deadshot."
Bruce read through the file. Lawton was former special operations. Expert marksman. Hundreds of confirmed kills. Psychological profile suggested sociopathic tendencies and addiction to the thrill of impossible shots.
And now he was in Gotham. Watching Batman. Challenging him.
"Assessment?" Bruce asked.
"Deadshot represents a new category of threat. His capabilities may include metahuman-level accuracy, though no confirmed genetic markers exist. If he's targeting Batman directly, standard operational approaches will be insufficient. He can engage from ranges where Batman has no chance of retaliation."
Bruce thought through the implications. Everything he'd done so far had been against normal criminals with normal weapons. Deadshot was something else. A professional killer with capabilities that bordered on superhuman.
'And this is what I've been preparing for,' Bruce thought. 'The moment when peak human isn't enough. When I need to be more than just well-trained and well-equipped.'
"We have one week according to his message," Bruce said. "Analyze everything we know about Lawton. I want predicted operational patterns, likely firing positions, and contingency plans for engaging a target with his capabilities."
"Acknowledged. Beginning comprehensive analysis now. But Bruce, I must note: the probability of surviving a direct confrontation with Deadshot using current capabilities is suboptimal."
"Define suboptimal."
"47% survival probability if you engage him head-on. He has every advantage: range, accuracy, preparation time, and the element of choosing when and where the confrontation occurs."
Bruce looked at his reflection in the dark screen. Peak human. The best a normal person could be.
But apparently, that still meant a coin flip chance of dying against a real professional.
The timeline had compressed again. Not just Superman's arrival, but the emergence of threats that required more than peak human capability to handle.
'I need to accelerate the enhancement protocols,' Bruce thought. 'Can't wait years to surpass human limits. Deadshot just moved up the timeline.'
But that was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to focus on surviving the next week.
"NEXUS, compile everything on Floyd Lawton. I want to know how he thinks, how he operates, and most importantly, how to beat him."
"Compilation in progress. Estimated completion time: 6 hours."
Bruce sat down at the computer and began his own analysis. Somewhere in Gotham, Deadshot was preparing. Planning. Getting ready to test whether Batman was real or just another target.
In one week, they'd find out.
And Bruce intended to make sure he was the one who walked away.
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