"Yes, for the fifth time, she pepper sprayed me. It's a little different."

"You?!"

"Yes."

"Wow . . . Who was she?"

"Master Shilo," Alfred said. "Perhaps you would like to take off your outfit and go get a snack? There is a chocolate pie in the freezer."

"But--"

"Go," Batman said, not wanting anyone around, particularly a partner who wouldn't leave well enough alone.

"Yeah," Robin said sheepishly. "That sounds pretty good, Alfred. Thanks."

"Of course, Master Shilo."

Shilo Norman, sans red and green battle togs, emerged a few moments later and slipped out of the Cave without so much as having either of the two men acknowledge his presence.

"It was . . . strange, Alfred."

"What, sir?"

"The girl."

"The one who sprayed you?"

"Yes, Alfred. The one who sprayed me. Why can't you and Shilo get off of that?"

"It's just so . . . unexpected. A normal girl managing to put the Batman on the ground."

"She's not a normal girl, Alfred. She had a tattoo on her face, a bat like the one on my chest. She was dressed in a purple robe, like the kind old friars used to wear and she had staples on her throat. I'm assuming they're there to hold together a wound. More than likely a cut."

"A tattoo of a bat?" Alfred said as he handed Bruce another towel for his face. "That is odd. Even for you."

"Mm. As soon as I can see straight I need to do a little research. See that Shilo gets home, will you?"

"Of course, sir."

Alfred left the small tray of warm towels laying on the table beside the huge computer network where Bruce Wayne sat. He looked at Bruce for a moment as he rubbed his eyes, thinking that this should have been enough of a sign for him to stop with this insane crusade.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred said, halfway up the stone stairs that led to the Manor.

"Yes, Alfred?"

"You mentioned she had a camera. What do you think she was doing?"

"I know what she was doing, Alfred. She was documenting me. The way the Taskmaster did."

"Do you think he could be back?"

"No. I doubt he'd employ someone who was a fan of mine."

"True enough. I'll be back to check on you in a while, sir."

"Hn."

"Yes," Ana said sadly. She knew all about disgraceful. She had hurt her Lord. The man had saved her life and she repaid him with injury.

"Hurland?" the Father said.

The young priest perked up, he wondered why he had been called here though he didn't mind being with Ana.

"Yes, Father?"

"You're young, Hurland. Tell me what you see on these videos."

"I see . . . the Lord. He's with his allies saving lives, combating evil. That is what he was sent to do, Father. Combat evil."

The Father laughed. Ana herself stifled a rough chuckle. Youth.

"No, lad. What you see is deceit. You don't remember when the Christians said fossils were a test of God, do you?"

Hurland shook his head.

"They claimed that the bones of dinosaurs were put on Earth as a test of faith. Ignorance. Sheer ignorance."

"Putrid fools," Ana rasped. "They should all be hung like their false god."

Hurland, a lapsed Catholic, flinched and saw her in a whole new light. This beauty with the voice of a demon had a heart even darker than her ruined face.

"Yes," the Father said. "But they will learn, in time. Assuming, of course, we can save Him."

"Father . . . " Hurland said in a soft, nervous voice. "Why did you call me here?"

"We need a Judas."

He turned from the computer screen. He had been at it for two nights now and so far he had come up with nothing. He'd considered calling Oracle but doubted if he would know any more than he did himself. Shilo stood at the doorway between the Manor and the darkness of the cave. Bats squealed in the darkness as his voice echoed off the walls.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I thought you were gone on a school trip."

"I was. I came back. Anyway, there's something on the news you need to come see."

"What channel?"

"WGBS."

Bruce typed for a moment then the computer screen was filled with the huge face of an Asian reporter. "The bodies," she said. "Were found in the Gothamtrak subway just hours ago skinned and hung from the handles."

Bruce's eyes darted across the screen as they showed what footage they could. Behind him Shilo had cut his eyes back into the foyer of the Manor. He wasn't particularly interested in even thinking about the story.

"You think it has any connection?"

Bruce said nothing as he hurried typed on the keyboard.

"Freeze frame 93. Enlarge one hundred and eighty percent. Skip frame. Zoom out forty one . . . two degrees."

Shilo watched with interest as the computer screen zoomed in and out of one of the quickly shown bodies at Bruce's command. He still couldn't believe all of this stuff.

"There."

Shilo waited patiently.

"Do you see it?"

He squinted across the distance. A bat, engraved on the muscles that covered the sternum.

"Yeah . . . It's a bat, right?"

"Mm. Get dressed."

"Aah!" James Gordon screamed, expecting the butcher to be right behind him. He turned to find Batman's piercing blue eyes.

"Oh, it's you. Scared the hell out of me."

"Hrr," the Bat said. He didn't have time for pleasantries.

"Why is it I never get to sleep? You would think busting up a gun running ring would be enough for one night but here I am."

"Jim," Batman said. "I don't have time. I need to see that body," he pointed to the body of a middle aged woman, her increasing weight problem obvious without her skin to cover it.

"Of course."

"Gee," Robin said as he tried not to look at the bodies. "I'm starting to wish I'd stayed at home."

Batman ignored him as he ran the tip of his finger along the etched bat on the woman's chest. It was a bat, he wasn't hallucinating. There had to be a connection. There was no other way.

"Her name was Julie," Office Montoya said from behind him. "She was headed to her job, the night shift, when whoever it was got her."

"How do you know her name?"

"Gordon didn't tell you?"

"I figured it was just crazy talk," Gordon said as he came up behind Batman.

"You figured what was just crazy talk?"

"There's a nut out on the rails, naked as the day he was born. Said he did this."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"He's dressed in rags, Batman. He's probably just some crazy drunk or hobo."

"You're tired, Jim. You're not thinking. Don't do it again."

"Where is he?"

"Over there," Bullock said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. "I've been trying to talk to the nutcase for the last hour. Refused to talk to anybody besides you."

Batman's silence acknowledged this news then he continued over to the shadowed walls of the subway tunnel. A man in rags, like Gordon said, cowered in the darkness.

"You wanted to see me?"

He looked up, his face covered. "It's you . . . It's really you."

"Yes."

"I had to get your attention."

"You're going to prison."

"No . . . No, you don't understand. I'm here to help you."

He took off his hood and mask.

"Take me with you."

Batman's jaw dropped as he looked at the man. A bat tattoo spread across his eyes. This just kept getting stranger.

"I'll answer you're questions when you answer mine."

"I'm not the police. I'm not even a very good person. Not like Captain America. I don't cut deals with demented fanatics.

"Captain America . . . Tell me about him. Are the two of you friends?"

"That's not important."

"But it is. You have to understand, I was sent here to spy on you. They didn't want me to tell you but I don't want you to be hurt. You saved my life once and I owe you. They're going to come, my Lord. They want to kill you so you won't disgrace yourself. If you will tell me that you only seek to lead Captain America and the others to the light I can report back to them and they won't come. Please!"

Batman slapped him. The man began to tear up. "I'm tired of dealing with you. I want answers. Who was the woman? Where did she come from? Why are you watching me, filming me?"

"Why, Lord?"

"Stop calling me that," Batman snapped.

"If you don't tell me, promise me, that you're not marring yourself with these . . . wretches. That you're just trying to convert them then I can save you."

"Mm. Will you confess to the murders?"

"I confess to them openly, Lord. They were unpure."

Batman sneered and clenched his teeth. He wanted to hurt this man for his fanaticism. They were alone in the cave. Shilo and Alfred were gone. There was no reason why he couldn't but he needed answers and, judging from the last hour, he wouldn't get them through violence. But benevolence . . .

"What shall we do now, Father?" Ana rasped.

"What was it you did before he came for you, Ana?"

"I was . . . " She tried to remember. It was a vague cloud in her mind. She felt the staples running along the middle ridge in her neck. "I was . . . "

"Before you were married you were a trainer. A third level black belt. Nothing special, not enough to compete with him. However," he held up a disk. "From studying this man . . . Prometheus . . . We have found a way to make you into a machine devoted to His salvation."

Ana was emotionless. She was unafraid. Anything for him, even if it meant losing herself. Even if it meant hurting him. When he saved her he had been hurt and never second guessed it. He did it for her. She was going to return the favor.

"You will be our Angel."

"No," she said. "I will be a Reaper."