The orange school bus careened through red lights, leaving behind the wreckage of three or four cars piled up at intersections as it sped toward the outskirts of the city.
Inside the bus, the five hostages, including Li Ang, were restrained with self-locking plastic straps around their wrists and ankles—impossible for them to remove on their own.
By now, half of Gotham's surveillance cameras had likely been commandeered, their footage streamed to the police station's main screen to track the bus's movements.
Escape was futile. Though no police cars were in visible pursuit, Bucky knew roadblocks had already been set up at every highway exit. The authorities were simply waiting for them to fall into their net.
"Head for Sullivan Island," Bucky ordered.
The driver silently obeyed, pressing the accelerator. The cityscape blurred past the windows, the towering skyscrapers bathed in the glow of the setting sun shrinking into the distance until the bus approached a massive bridge.
Gotham was a natural port city comprising multiple islands connected by bridges and tunnels. Each island served a distinct purpose: the affluent Uptown and Sheldon Park lay to the north, Narrow Island housed the infamous Arkham Asylum, and districts like the Old Town, Municipal Zone, and Financial District sprawled across various regions.
Situated in the southwest was Gotham Police Headquarters on Triangle Cape, separated by water from the high-security Blackgate Penitentiary.
Sullivan Island, meanwhile, was a vital link to Gotham's southern ports and a lawless haven controlled by crime syndicates. Smuggling tobacco, liquor, cars, narcotics, child trafficking, organs, and firearms was the norm here.
Even Gotham's police avoided the island, preferring to patrol from within the safety of their armored vehicles, lest a stray bullet find its way to their skulls.
In many ways, Sullivan Island was Gotham's beating heart of darkness—a miniature version of Mexico's cartel-controlled towns.
"Stop them before they reach the island," Commissioner Jim Gordon instructed into his radio, seated in the front passenger seat of a police cruiser.
At the bridge entrance, over a dozen police cars had formed an impenetrable blockade. Officers crouched behind their bulletproof doors, watching tensely as the bus slowed and pulled to the roadside.
"Hey, superhero," Bucky said mockingly, pressing the cold barrel of his gun against Li Ang's cheek. His tone was theatrical, as though reciting an aria from an opera. "What do you think those cops will do?"
"I... I don't know," Li Ang stammered, his voice trembling. "Please... don't kill me."
"Let me tell you how this will go," Bucky continued, tapping the gun against his temple. "Those paycheck-dependent pencil-pushers out there? No way they'll take direct action. They'll call in SWAT for sure."
The bus was silent, save for the faint sobbing of a young blonde girl sitting nearby. Li Ang's peripheral vision caught her huddled figure, shaking with fear.
"No one wants to guess? Shame."
Bucky clapped his hands together dramatically. "SWAT will lie in wait, crouched in the grass like lionesses stalking prey on the African savanna..."
Trailing off, he knelt to unzip a bag at his feet and pulled out two cans of black spray paint.
Li Ang's brow furrowed as he watched Bucky pick up the cans, step to the windows, and begin spraying. Within seconds, the bus's windows were completely blacked out, preventing the police from seeing inside.
Bucky discarded the empty cans and stretched lazily. "Without visual intel, those SWAT boys outside are like kittens with bags over their heads. Ever watch cute pet videos on YouTube?"
No one answered.
Unfazed, Bucky reached into another bag and produced five respirator-equipped gas masks. Li Ang's eyes narrowed as he recognized them: British S9 masks, high-grade equipment capable of filtering dust, smoke, and toxic gases.
Why would common bank robbers have something like this? Li Ang's mind raced.
Once all the masked men had donned their gear, Bucky's muffled voice continued, "SWAT will get desperate. They'll start with flashbangs and tear gas, hoping to neutralize us and protect the hostages."
He tossed a mask to one of his subordinates and chuckled, "Then they'll climb ladders, smash through the windows, and storm in like action heroes—only to get flattened by our little surprise."
Grinning wildly, Bucky pulled out a silver serving tray from the bag and handed it to the sobbing blonde girl beside Li Ang. "Guess what's under the lid?"
The girl shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face. Bucky lifted the lid with a flourish.
Drip... drip...
Nestled in the tray was a makeshift bomb, its red LED display ominously flashing.
"Relax, I haven't armed it yet," Bucky said, setting the timer to twenty seconds before securing the bomb to the girl's chest with duct tape.
"You thought I was after a measly few million dollars from Gotham National Bank?" he scoffed, adjusting the red foam clown nose on his face. "No, I'm here to send a message. I'll burn Gotham's dreams of a renovated port to the ground. Let the city's fat-cat politicians know: touch Gotham Port, and you'll pay the price."
Li Ang remained impassive. "If that bomb goes off, how do you plan to escape?"
"Ah, good question."
Before Li Ang could react, a syringe slid from Bucky's sleeve. In one swift motion, he jabbed it into Li Ang's neck, injecting a cocktail of barbiturates and muscle relaxants.
"Can't be too careful with someone who'd break their own arm," Bucky said with a grin.
Paralyzed and unable to resist, Li Ang watched as Bucky kicked aside the duffel bags, revealing a metal hatch in the bus floor. He lifted it to expose an open manhole leading to Gotham's sewer system.
"When the flashbangs go off, we'll drop into the sewers. The cops will storm in, only to find their 'rescue mission' ends with a bang."
As if on cue, a flashbang grenade shattered a bus window.
The explosion filled the bus with blinding light and deafening noise. Li Ang felt his eardrums rupture, his vision reduced to a blinding white haze.
Through the chaos, he glimpsed the robbers disappearing into the sewer, leaving behind a haze of tear gas—and the bomb.
Bucky's maniacal laughter echoed as he descended into the shadows. "The game begins now! Let's see who survives!"
The timer began to count down.
20 seconds.