The Monday evening broadcast of WNN Worldwide News was going exactly as planned. Amongst the various studio and camera technicians was a rather slight, and goateed video engineer. He was the type to competently do his job, without calling a lot of attention to himself. His relative anonymity in the studio made sure that no one was looking when he used his desktop computer to send an urgent e-mail.

"Pager 12688: All is ready. Operation clear to begin."

It did not matter that e-mails out of the broadcasting company were monitored; nothing would be same at WNN - or with the whole United States - once this night was over.

"We'll be there soon," Batman replied. "See if you can contact the airport down in Atlanta. If you can get them, I know some codes that will allow us to transmit information directly to SHIELD and the local authorities."

"I'll keep trying," Azrael assented.

Iron Cross stood behind the two men, who just days before would have been his enemies. He began to feel a slight pain in his side. A torn muscle, perhaps? He had not felt such pains for as long as he could remember, as long as he had been taking the General's treatments. Maybe it would go away. Just hours before, he had switched allegiances from the Legion of Hate to the cause of these two heroes. Iron Cross was thinking of whether he had made the right choice, and what his choice would cost him, when all was said and done.

Inside were two dozen fully-armed SHIELD agents. Their commander was going over the mission instructions from a palm-sized computer.

"We were lucky that our prisoner, Der Grosshorn Eule, told us everything we needed to know," he remarked to co-commander.

"Our SHIELD Mento Helmets allow our prisoners to keep no secrets," the other replied, grinning slightly. "But it's hard to believe the Legion of Hate would be so bold as to attack WNN Studios," he mused.

"They would be. And it's going to happen within moments. If we don't stop them tonight, at WNN Studios, their next attack will be even worse!"

At that moment, a dozen soldiers burst into the newsroom. The video technician got up from his console and pulled out a small pistol. The studio techs were so surprised that they just threw up their hands in surrender. One tech tried to run out of the room; a bullet from one of the soldiers sent him to the floor.

Cliff Clayson tried to keep calm. "We're having some . . . technical difficulties here at WNN. We'll be back after these messages."

One of the soldiers commandeered the camera and readied it for what was going to be broadcast next. The Legion of Hate had a special presentation for the citizens of the United States.

"The boy is trying," Iron Cross reminded gently.

"I'd do it myself if I wasn't flying this plane," Batman remarked. "Get on it, Azrael."

Azrael worked to figure out the workings of the plane's radio. He did not want to let the Dark Knight down.

"Point the camera at me. There's no need for me to hide anymore. There's no need for any of my loyal forces to hide anymore."

The light of the camera showed the little bits of age that were creeping across the bony, strong-jawed face. General Immortus' eerie, unnatural vitality made him a particularly frightening person to broadcast across the country.

The General cleared his throat, and then began to broadcast his message across the entire United States.

"I've been asked to give you this code," Azrael said into the radio. He then began repeating a series of coded phrases that Batman said to him as the other hero flew their small jet toward Atlanta.

"You got the code right, Azrael," Batman said. "Nice work."

"You're clear for landing," the controller radioed back to Azrael. "Do you need a police escort from the airport?"

"Tell them that we'll need an unmarked helicopter, if they can find one!" Batman called out.

Azrael looked out the window and saw that Hartsfield Airport was in sight. Perhaps they stood a chance of stopping the Legion of Hate's attack after all.

The General stopped speaking, as to give his next words greater emphasis.

"I am broadcasting this message to all of my lieutenants across the United States. It is time for you to activate . . . ."

At that moment he noticed a helicopter hovering outside the window. Everyone, soldiers and captive studio technicians alike, looked outside.

"Who dares to interrupt my speech?" Immortus yelled, flabbergasted.

A man in a blue suit of armor flew over to the window and used a laser in his gauntlet to cut a hole through the glass window. Just then, the red-and-black garbed figure of Azrael swung forward through the hole and smashed glass all over the studio.

Cliff Clayson ducked for cover as the Legion of Hate's soldiers opened fire on the intruders.

"Monk! Black Assassin! Take them!" General Immortus leapt from his seat and began laying down covering fire with his Luger.

The Monk leapt at Iron Cross and jumped on his back. His taloned hands tore at the seals on Iron Cross' armor.

Iron Cross maneuvered his gauntlets toward the Monk's head. He let loose with an electrical charge that sent the Monk flying into a wall.

Azrael let loose with his flaming gauntlet, scorching a number of the soldiers. But the Black Assassin charged through the flames toward the young hero.

As he saw the heroes defeating his forces, General Immortus knew that this attack had failed, just as his other recent efforts had, too. He had to be mentally prepared to abandon his troops, as he had once had to do in that fateful battle in 1916, when he left his entire regiment to be torn to pieces by an Allied platoon. He survived that battle, and he would survive this one.

Immortus snuck out of the studio through one of the side doors. Gunfire and the screams of his own men resounded through the stairway that he used to ascend toward the top of the building.

The SHIELD agents recognized Batman and saluted him. Avengers League members were, by newly-enacted SHIELD regulations, to be treated with deference and respect wherever they were encountered.

"Batman!"

"Good to see you here!" Batman replied. "I hate to admit it, but I need your help! You need to get down to the main studio level. The Legion of Hate already has the station!"

Suddenly, a huge cloud of fog enveloped the group. It was followed by a thick and massive blackness in which no one could see.

But Batman's night vision goggles just barely showed him the way to the stairwell. He knew that he had to get down to the studio himself - there was no time to battle the menace of the blackness and fog.

The General geared himself up and rushed up the last flight of stairs to the roof of WNN Studios. He was happy to see that his agents Night and Fog had provided an excellent diversion for the SHIELD Agents who had just arrived.

The helicopter had arrived; it was time to make a speedy escape.

"Sensors at full! Try to break through the blackness and fog!"

A gray-haired but muscular young man and a cruelly beautiful black-haired woman appeared in front of them. They were Nacht und Nebbel - Night and Fog - the notorious Nazi agents who now worked for the Legion of Hate. They laughed at the agents' attempts to move through the blackness and fog.

But they were fools to underestimate the agents' technology and skills.

"I've got a life reading on both of them!" one of the agents shouted out. "Transmitting the bio-signature to your weapons systems!"

The other SHIELD agents calibrated their weapons and then drew a bead on Night and Fog.

"Blow them away!" their commander ordered.

The agents let loose into the fog with their rifles. Night and Fog were so reliant on their powers that they were unprepared for the direct assault. The bullets tore them to pieces.

As the fog cleared, one of the agents noticed an unmarked black helicopter soaring off across the Atlanta skyline.

"Who was that who left just now?"

"I'll signal the Air Force to patrol the skies within a hundred miles from here - whoever it is, they won't get away."

The agents marched past the fallen bodies of Night and Fog, and rushed down the roof stairs.

The Assassin tossed the young man aside. He looked around for a few of the studio crew to shoot out of spite, but everyone had managed to escape. Iron Cross and the Monk were still fighting.

Suddenly, Iron Cross felt a pain that he had never expected to feel. He had been exerting himself too much, and had to rest.

He leaned up against the wall. The pain was almost too great for him to stand on his own.

"So, Iron Cross," Black Assassin snarled. "Feeling the effects of age, are you? If you had not left your cause, Immortus would have continued your treatments. You are the oldest of us all besides Immortus! You should have never left us--now it will mean your death."

"You are a disgrace to the Fatherland, Schwarzer Muechelmorder," Iron Cross replied. He tried hard to lift his arm to fire an electrical blast at the villains, but he could only move with difficulty. By that time, the Monk had turned into his wolf-like form and had torn Iron Cross' helmet off of its seals. The rapidly aging, but noble face of Helmut Gruler was clearly visible.

A few of the soldiers of the Legion of Hate were left alive. They brushed themselves off and walked over, and brought their weapons up to fire.

Black Assassin directed them over to where he was. "Come on, men. Let's show Iron Cross what the Legion of Hate does to traitors."

Black Assassin pulled his favorite Luger from its holster and readied it to fire along with his loyal soldiers.

In the corner, the Monk pulled the unconscious form of Azrael toward him. His lethal fangs were ready to bite into the young man's neck. "A warrior's blood! A fine feast indeed!"

All at once, four Batarangs flew into the left arms of the soldiers. They dropped their weapons and clutched their bleeding arms. Black Assassin spun around.

"Batman!"

The Dark Knight leapt into the soldiers' midst before anyone could recover. Punches and kicks knocked the soldiers to the floor.

Black Assassin pointed his gun at Batman, who fired his Bat-grappler directly at the Assassin's arm. The force of the weapon brought the Assassin's arm back sharply and pinned him to the wall. Batman started to brutally punch the trapped Nazi. This was the Dark Knight's most personal battle.

But the Monk howled and leapt upon Batman's back. He shoved Batman to the ground and prepared to rend his cowl aside so that he could bite Batman's neck.

But all of a sudden the undead creature shrunk back in horror.

"Ahh! Get it away!"

Azrael walked forward, holding a cross directly in the Monk's face. Enforced by the zealous faith of a member of the Order of St. Dumas, the cross had a great effect on the undead Monk. He rushed away, turned into a bat, and flew out one of the broken windows.

The Black Assassin had managed to tear his arm free from the wall, with the Bat-grappler still inside it. The bleeding did not bother the dedicated killer.

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" Batman snarled.

Black Assassin did not speak. What he was going to do now would immortalize the Legion of Hate forever and make him a martyr to what was left of the movement.

He pulled a grenade from his belt, and managed to pull the pin out with his other hand.

"I don't need to give up, Batman," Black Assassin. "I've won."

Suddenly, Batman was shoved aside by a massive metal arm. Iron Cross had come around, and grabbed Black Assassin in his arms.

Before Batman and Azrael could do anything, Iron Cross ignited his boot jets, flew out the window, and soared up into the sky.

In a matter of moments, they saw a massive explosion. Bits of armor fell down out of the sky, in a clanking rain of blue and silver. It was clear that the Black Assassin had been totally incinerated by the blast.

Batman and Azrael stood silently, honoring the sacrifice that Iron Cross had made.

The Monk shall retire from the human world once more, he thought to himself. But I will visit the Batman again someday, to feast on his blood and make him my slave!

He changed back into his bat form and soared off across the Atlanta skyline, into the night.

The SHIELD commander came over to where Batman and Azrael were standing.

"Thank you for your help, Batman. Without you, we would not have been able to stop this operation. Cliff Clayson is alive and well, and WNN is continuing broadcasts tonight." The commander looked down at his PDA. "I've got a report here that, thanks to your efforts, we were able to capture a number of cells of the Legion of Hate around the country, who attempted to activate during the broadcast. Tonight alone, SHIELD Agents and local police stopped at least twelve homegrown terrorist attacks from happening."

Azrael was astounded.

"I don't care what the Mayor of New York says, Batman," the commander said. "You're a hero in my book, and the law ought to recognize you as such, and not as a menace."

"Thank you," Batman replied.

He reflected on what he had been involved in tonight. The Legion of Hate had been stopped, but still at the cost of innocent lives. One of the killers of his parents had died tonight as well. Now there was only one of them left alive, Justin Hammer. Batman wondered whether he would ever get the chance to take revenge on the billionaire industrialist.

It had been a long night, and he resolved to enjoy their victory, for now at least.

Batman turned his attention to Azrael.

"You've done well, Azrael," Batman said. "We could work well together, even if your methods are a bit bloodthirsty at times."

"It would be an honor to give it a try," Azrael said.

"Partners, then." The gauntlets of Batman and Azrael clanked as they shook hands.

General Immortus gathered what remained of his troops.

"We have lost this campaign," the General stated, as he addressed them. "But, my loyal troops, my goals will be furthered, and next time, under a different guise. And I will have revenge upon Batman."