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The brightly lit communications room was in disarray; chairs and tables were overturned. Cindy expressed her dissatisfaction with Michael's lack of progress.
Even through his mask, Michael could feel her contemptuous gaze, as if blaming him for being unable to handle a young girl. He felt helpless. Was he supposed to harshly interrogate a disabled teenager? Perhaps the previous Deathstroke would have done that, but he wouldn't.
He pulled up a chair and sat across from Barbara, the crimson monocle on his mask focusing on her.
"Now that the phone and internet are working, you can call your father. Don't worry; I won't harm him this time," Michael assured.
Barbara was skeptical. "You're just her sidekick. I want her to promise me personally. She's a mercenary; she should know how to keep her word, right?"
Cindy couldn't help but laugh. Michael being treated as her sidekick amused her greatly. She thought Barbara had good taste; after all, between the two of them, she—the woman—was stronger.
Michael felt a twinge of frustration. If Barbara weren't disabled, he might have scolded her. "Can't you tell that I'm the one in charge here?"
Barbara looked at the two of them inquisitively. Their equipment was identical, their tones similar, even the bloodstains on their armor matched. How could she tell who was in charge? She shook her head honestly. "I can't tell."
Michael sighed deeply, stood up, and went to the door to stand guard, gesturing for Cindy to take over. He needed a moment of peace.
Cindy gladly took the seat he vacated, clearly pleased with herself. She removed her helmet and lit a cigar, lounging comfortably as if she were in her own living room.
"Alright, I promise you—not only will we not harm Commissioner Gordon, but we'll also do our best to ensure his safety," Cindy vowed.
With Cindy's assurance, Barbara pulled out a small red cellphone from her pocket and dialed a number. But as she listened to the busy tone, her face turned grim.
Unwilling to give up, she called several more times, but each attempt yielded the same result: the number was unavailable.
Cindy had expected this. It seemed things were just as Michael had said. Since the black-clad individuals had come to kidnap Barbara, they would certainly target Gordon as well. In terms of social value, Barbara was just a high school girl, whereas Gordon was a key figure in the city.
"How could this be... His phone must not be with him," Barbara murmured, repeatedly pressing redial.
Cindy leaned back in the chair, leisurely smoking her cigar. "Go ahead and try, but it's just a waste of time. With each passing second that Gordon is missing, he's in more danger."
Barbara's hand froze on the dial. She was at a loss, but soon she tossed aside the phone, placed her laptop on the table, and began typing furiously.
"What's she doing?" Cindy watched as Barbara seemed to be typing like mad. Could that really help find Gordon?
Michael leaned against the door, cleaning his staff. "She's probably hacking into Gotham City's mobile communications server to triangulate Gordon's location using cell tower signals."
Cindy touched her eyepatch, a bit annoyed that Michael knew something she didn't. "Is technology popular where you're from?"
Michael wasn't sure which Earth his body belonged to. As for himself, he'd watched quite a few TV shows where they did this sort of thing. Even if he didn't know how to operate it, he'd at least seen it done.
"It's nothing special; we each have our areas of expertise. I'm sure your knowledge of mythology is much stronger than mine," he consoled her. Working together and complementing each other's abilities was beneficial.
Cindy didn't dwell on it. Even as a super soldier, she didn't need to know everything. But she couldn't help but tease him: "Your methods are quite different from the other Deathstroke. Your moral standards are higher—you're such an angel."
An angel...
Being called such a term in this world felt unsettling to Michael. He really wanted to go home, back to a society he was accustomed to. It wasn't that he was a chauvinist; he just constantly felt a sense of gender confusion here.
Barbara, who was typing furiously, sneaked a glance at them. So that's the kind of relationship between the two Deathstrokes? She felt she had discovered something intriguing.
But once engaged in her specialty, she became intensely focused. The sound of her typing filled the room. A few minutes later, she pressed the Enter key. The attack command she had just written successfully hacked into the communications company under Wayne Enterprises—the provider of her father's mobile service.
She stretched her shoulders, waiting for the program's feedback. The tension eased slightly as she rubbed her fingers while waiting.
Cindy suddenly spoke again, pointing to the laptop. "Welcome to the family of criminals. If I remember correctly, hacking into someone else's system without authorization is at least espionage."
Barbara's face froze. Being called a criminal by Deathstroke gave her a sense of shame at being seen through. Indeed, this wasn't her first time using her hacking skills. In the past, she had hacked into other websites countless times—not to do anything malicious, but to hone her skills and improve her programming methods.
She had hacked into her school, the local convenience store, even the Gotham Police Department to see what her father did during work hours. But she had always been careful because hackers weren't well-regarded in this world. Technology and the internet were still emerging, and hackers were portrayed as cyber-terrorists in the news.
Even Gordon didn't know this secret, fearing he would reprimand her. So all along, Gordon just thought his daughter liked playing on the computer, perhaps enjoying video games.
This time, in her urgency, she instinctively hacked into someone else's server to find clues, only now realizing the implications.
"I... I..." Barbara blushed, wanting to argue, but the evidence was right in front of her; there was no denying it.
Michael shook his head helplessly. They were doing serious work here; Cindy's comments weren't helping. "Alright, she's just teasing you. Legal or illegal, are we going to testify in court that the police commissioner's daughter is a hacker?"
Barbara sneaked a glance at her colleagues slumped against the wall. She was somewhat relieved they were unconscious. Otherwise, if they knew, it would spread throughout the entire police station.
Michael also removed his helmet. Seeing Cindy enjoying her smoke, he felt a craving himself and planned to light one up. Suddenly, he realized something.
"No wonder you were so eager to go out and deal with the signal jammers earlier. Did you already take the cigars from the doorframe in the corridor?"
Cindy proudly raised the cigar in her hand. "Hehe, this is your cigar. I have to say, it tastes a bit different from ours."
"A man..." Barbara showed a horrified expression again. She felt she had discovered the ultimate secret: Deathstroke was actually two people, and one of them was a man!
Knowing so much, could she survive?
Michael was gradually getting used to people showing incredulous expressions upon discovering he was male. After all, in this world, "man" was synonymous with weakness, and Deathstroke was a world-renowned powerhouse. Such contrasting identities appearing in one person—anyone would find it hard to accept.
"Your results are out. Why are you staring at us instead of looking at the screen?" Michael pushed Barbara's laptop toward her. Below a series of codes, coordinates had appeared.
"Oh, right." Barbara adjusted her glasses and took a deep breath. "These are the IDs of the cell towers my father passed. By retrieving their locations from the database and comparing them with the Gotham City map... He went to Arkham tonight!"
"Arkham?" Cindy tilted her head, rolling her helmet on the table playfully. "They say it's a sanatorium, but it's more secure than a fortress. At least 400 armed guards patrol 24/7, along with gunboats, armored vehicles, and police dogs. The black-clad people wouldn't make a move there."
"Yes, at 12:03 AM, he left there, returned along this route, and his last phone location was here." Barbara pointed at the screen, zooming in on the map. Using triangulation, she could even pinpoint the specific street.
Cindy leaned in to look. A map of Gotham immediately appeared in her mind, even more detailed than the police station's, because she knew many hidden locations: black market arms dealers, smuggling gangs, even the League of Shadows' surveillance spots.
After studying the screen, Cindy shook her head. "Gordon's route is correct. He crossed the causeway bridge, then took the North District tunnel. But with today's rain, the tunnel might be flooded."
"Whose territory is that?" Michael also took a look but couldn't decipher it.
"It's no one's territory. It's a delicate location," Cindy explained, pointing around the map. "Here, here, and here are the territories of Black Mask, Red Hood, and Two-Face, respectively..."
"So Gordon's last location is at the junction of the three—a no-man's land," Michael understood.
Just like a buffer zone between rival factions, none of them controlled this area. It was one of the relatively peaceful zones in Gotham's slums. There might be small gangs, but nothing significant.
"What should we do?" Barbara now knew Gordon's location but had no way to help. She anxiously looked at the two of them.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Can't you call Batwoman or someone? She must have a phone, right? Have her come rescue him. We happen to have something to discuss with the Bat."
"We don't have her number. In the past, she'd appear whenever the Bat-Signal was lit. But... Batwoman has left. She's not in Gotham anymore," Barbara said, distressed.
Michael and Cindy both frowned. Could it be that Batwoman had already gone to confront the Sea Queen?
"Where did she go?" Cindy asked. If it wasn't too far, maybe they could catch up.
"I don't know... That night, she came to our house in the middle of the night to talk to my dad, but when I woke up, I only heard the latter part," Barbara recalled, pressing her temples. "She said she was leaving Gotham for a while, that there was some danger and wanted to take us with her, but we refused. So she left on her own. Maybe she mentioned where she was going earlier, but only my dad knows."
Cindy leaned back in her chair, exhausted, and looked at Michael. He was the one who said this world was in danger; he should know what's going on.
Michael was also at a loss. Batwoman knew in advance there was danger. What could make even the Bat avoid it? Did she know about the upcoming multiverse event? But as someone from the Dark Multiverse, she had no reason to know.
These black-clad individuals trying to kidnap Gordon and Barbara—what was their motive? Apart from being Batman's ally, Gordon didn't seem to have any special significance.
Both women were looking at him, making Michael feel immense pressure, especially Barbara, who seemed on the verge of tears.
"What have you done before after determining the phone signal's location?" He moved the laptop closer to Barbara, hoping she had some ideas.
"Nothing else. Before, I just did it for fun; I'd stop at this point," Barbara admitted.
Her expression didn't suggest she was lying. It seemed that in this world, she wasn't as mature as Oracle from other universes.
"Listen to me. Now start hacking into Gotham City's traffic system, retrieve surveillance footage from that area. Start from when the phone stopped moving."
"Okay!"
Barbara wiped her tears, adjusted her glasses, and began rewriting the code to connect to the Department of Transportation's server.
A few minutes later, she successfully obtained the surveillance footage of the relevant road sections, but there was nothing unusual. The road showed only the quiet, rainy scene—no pedestrians, no cars.
She looked to Michael for help again.
"The surveillance has been tampered with. Using signal jammers and some equipment, they can tap into the surveillance and replay pre-recorded scenes," Michael explained, leaning closer to the screen. He could smell a faint, sweet scent from Barbara. "The rain is too light; it should be recorded around 10:30 PM, then looped continuously. Rewind a bit and see if there's anything."
Following his suggestion, Barbara adjusted the time to around 10:30 PM. The three of them quietly watched the screen. Suddenly, the image shook.
"That's it, stop," Michael exclaimed. "Slow down and replay those three seconds."
However, the result disappointed them. The last thing recorded was just a shadow of a black glove passing by, with no identifiable information.
"Well... There's nothing we can do. Looks like we'll have to go to the scene ourselves," Cindy said, picking up her helmet and patting Barbara on the shoulder.
Michael had no other options either. To find out where Batwoman might have gone, they had to find Gordon—he was their only lead.
"Take me with you!" Barbara suddenly exclaimed, grabbing Cindy's hand. "I can help you, like just now. I want to save him."
"No way. You can hide in the armory. When daylight comes and the officers return to work, you'll be safe," Cindy immediately refused. Acting during a storm was already inconvenient; bringing along someone in a wheelchair would only be a burden.
But Michael saw it differently. Not to mention Barbara's computer skills, but after they rescued Gordon, would he trust Deathstroke? If Barbara was present, wouldn't it be easier to gain his trust?
"I think we can bring her. She's still in danger. Even if she hides in the armory, what if the black-clad people come back?" Michael argued. "If we rescue Gordon but Barbara is captured, we'll have to help Gordon save her again. Our time is limited."
When Barbara wanted to mention that she could handle herself, Michael subtly gestured for her to stay quiet.
Cindy thought for a moment, sighed, and wondered why she was always swayed by Michael.
"Fine, you can come, but don't expect me to push your wheelchair," she relented.
Though she said that, Cindy still put on her helmet, changing her mind.
Michael shrugged at Barbara, also donned his helmet, and pulled a blue police raincoat from behind the door, tossing it to her. "Alright, bring your computer and wireless card. Let's go find a car outside."