Security was tight. The president was scheduled to deliver an address. Men in black suits and sunglasses stalked every corner of every room, speaking quietly with each other via ear piece/microphone sets. They were going about their normal routine. Outside of Oracle, the information broker of his enterprise, no one seemed to know anything about the stolen top secret floor plans or, assuming they knew, no one seemed to care. He was being paranoid, he told himself. Shaking the thoughts out of his head he continued down the airshaft. They couldn't see him if they never looked up (which they didn't) and that gave him the perfect opportunity to spy for Hydra agents. Still, he had to keep moving. The men in black might not know he was right over their heads but the White House computer security systems would if he were still long enough. Dressed similar to the tongueless man from Gotham he doubted if President Scott would vouch for him. Hell, he thought, he wouldn't vouch for me if I were in my costume.

Hydra wasn't stupid. That much was obvious. There was no one even remotely resembling the man from Gotham or himself. They were undercover as well. The thought crossed his mind that they may have planned something from outside the White House walls. Planted bombs possibly. No, that couldn't be. They would've been spotted inside, there would be no reason for the terrorists in Gotham and it left no reason for them to get the floor plans. They were inside somewhere. He just had to keep his eyes open and his mind sharp.

Captain America was supposed to be here; the honored guest. Batman hoped so. Scott was a bit proud of himself, too much so, he took too many risks by delivering his speech from the White House. A human president, one that hadn't been a superhero for fifty years, would never be that damned stupid. Cap needed to be here if things got out of hand. This wasn't really Batman's concern and he certainly wasn't altruistic enough to think that taking a bullet (that was probably too unoriginal) or whatever Hydra had planned for Scott was his patriotic duty. Adamantium shields did much better against that sort of thing that Kevlar chest pieces. He wished Tony Stark was coming.

Below him he heard a sudden burst of whispering. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder then back down the air shaft up ahead, scanning for cameras or surveillance equipment. Scott couldn't be arrogant enough to think that no one would ever infiltrate his home. The two men below him, Secret Service agents, pointed and nodded. He tried to hear what they were saying but it was too low. The man who had been standing by the corridor when the second man came nodded then the second man hurried down the hallway. Had something happened? Did they know something? No . . . Probably not.

He kept going. Below him was Scott's conference room where media and fashion consultants hounded him with questions and comments about what he was going to say, wear, think, etc. Batman frowned. This would have been disillusioning if he didn't already expect it. What would President Scott think of him now? he wondered. Creeping around the air ducts of the White House in search of a Hydra terrorist who he planned to hurt very badly. He had made a mental note not to vote for Scott's reelection after the naïve Fantastic Act passed and now he checked it and circled it with a large red mental mark.

It was getting close to time and still he had seen no evidence of any Hydra agents but he knew they were here. Hydra didn't fool with scare tactics. When they said they were going to do something they meant it. President Scott was in danger and, much as he didn't like the man and thought he was far too innocent for a man who'd seen the horrors of World War Two and forty plus years of crime fighting, it was his job to protect him.

The Secret Service agent who had spoken to the other earlier stood beneath him now jabbering away conspiratorially at his ear piece. Batman stopped and spread his hands and feet against the air duct to lower himself in an attempt to hear what he was saying. Several of the president's advisors walked down the hallway, talking loudly to each other and it was lost. The SS ended his communication and nodded to them as they went. He considered grabbing the man and pulling him up into the vent to find out what he knew but couldn't risk it. That was too flashy. Hydra would certainly notice. There was a hubbub and a bit of clapping from the room where Scott would give his address. Batman regrouped himself and continued down the air duct to see what was going on. If the people in the hall were distracted it would be the perfect opportunity for an assassin to sneak in unnoticed. He stopped at a vent directly above the meeting room. Captain America had arrived. Good. He could go home now. No, Cap wouldn't be expecting it and he was the only person who knew about Hydra's plans. He wished now he had had Azrael infiltrate the Secret Service men. That would have been a great help.

He watched closely as the crowd of delegates, socialites and reporters shook Steve Roger's hand. He smiled like the boy scout he was and Batman grimaced. He could never be in a public position like Cap or Alan Scott. Shilo was enough of a handful. They were all excited to see him, the legendary Captain. Still, he knew good and well that even a Hydra agent wasn't dumb enough not to go along with the crowd. To single themselves out. No one looked any more suspicious than he expected. They all had their secrets, they were mostly politicians, but none of them were harboring murderous intentions.

Cap took a seat and sat his shield down beside him as he crossed his arms over his chest. Batman considered calling out to him. Not from the air vent, that would be idiotic. No, he felt confident he could secure a new disguise from Scott's closet wardrobe and get close to him as Bruce Wayne. He actually considered it for a moment then stopped short as the Captain and the rest of the crowd all stood upon Scott's entrance. Secret Service flanked the doors. The men he had seen talking walked in behind him and stood at the back door of the room. Now it was going to happen. He had to be sharp or he would miss it and he couldn't rely on Cap, not expecting it, to save the ball if he missed the catch. Football analogies. He really was getting tired.

"Good evening," President Scott said. "Welcome, friends, enemies, and old sparring partners," he said as he nodded to Cap. The Captain smiled and the audience laughed softly at the president's icebreaker.

Batman scanned the crowd, instantly examining anyone who reached into their jacket, behind their chair, into their pockets, anyone who made any move. Nothing. They were waiting for the right moment.

"We have had a good year."

Nothing.

"The Fantastic Act is in full swing under the direction of Professor Reed Richards and his team."

Batman sneered. Nothing.

"Vigilante activity is down. We're on the threshold of a new age of decency, morality and freedom."

Nothing. Not even a logical speech.

"I've invited Captain America here tonight to tell us a little about . . . "

Batman had stopped listening. He actually respected Steve Rogers and didn't want to hear him make an ass of himself while the thoughtless zombies applauded.

"But first--"

Here it came. He was going to say something, do something, that Hydra wasn't going to like. Batman steeled himself. His muscles were tired from being compacted into an air vent half the night but, as the adrenaline began to flow through his veins, he loosened up and became ready.

"As you all know, anti-American terrorism is a serious threat. The Red Skull, Flag Smasher, Scorpio, Hydra."

Now.

It happened in a flurry of action. The Secret Service men at the back door screamed "get down" and the audience began to scream. Years of training and practice kicked into overdrive as Captain America reached for his shield. The Secret Service men at the side doors drew their weapons but found them useless against their enemy who they had yet to see. Scott, having become more than a little soft, was flustered as he tried to think of what to do. Batman saw them. No one else. The threat was the Secret Service men. He dropped out of the vent, surprised them, then was on them in seconds. The first man he kicked, knocking him into the wall, his gun flying into the corridor. The second moved to shoot him but stopped short as he heaved the body of his partner at him. The second gunman was startled but not down. He fired and hit Batman in the shoulder. Rage took over. A fist to the throat. A knee to the face. His hand grabbed the man's head and slammed his face into the doorway.

"Turn around slow," a deep voice said behind him. Breathing heavy from the gun shot wound Batman turned. Captain America stood flanked by an army of Secret Service men and Alan Scott who looked anything but happy.

"Sorry to interrupt," Batman said. "You're life was in danger."

Captain America was the leader here. They waited for him as he stood silently waiting for Batman to deliver an explanation on who he was and what he thought he was doing.

"Hydra," he said, pointing towards the felled men.

"I doubt that," Scott said.

"I doubt a lot of things. They're Hydra. Check their records."

"Hm. Do you think you may have gone a little overboard?"

"No."

"Who are you?" Cap asked, reaching for his collar. Batman swatted his hand away then tore open his shirt to reveal the black bat on his chest.

"I'm Batman."

President Scott's jaw dropped open. Batman smiled. It was nice to see the leader of the free world caught with his pants down, he thought. He turned to leave without another word when Captain America grabbed his shoulder.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. It's in your hands now, friend."

"Home?" Scott asked as Batman continued down the hallway then outside into the darkness.

"Gotham. He doesn't like to leave."