The Dark Knight Lives (THIRTY)

Katherine Kane was walking down an alley near a pier, her mask covering the bottom half of her face. She had obtained some rather interesting information from the rowdy bunch of drunken hooligans at The Steampot and was now following their lead.

Apparently, something big was happening tonight. A well-known crime boss by the name of Harley was conducting some illegal business down by the pier. Apparently, the deal the boss was conducting had something to do with The Flock; the masked goons known to be working for The Penguin.

If she could find a way to arrest Harley and take him back to the depot maybe he would squeal about The Penguin. And then the mayor’s murderer could be brought to justice.

She slid her hand to her hip where a gun sat in a hidden holster on her thigh. She stopped at the end of the alley as she heard hushed voices. When she looked around the corner her eyes widened.

It was the gorgeous caramel-skinned woman from the previous evening speaking with Harley and his mob. At her shoulder stood the pale woman, finally dressed in something slightly more appropriate for the freezing temperatures; a thick looking bright blue coat over her shirt and shorts.

The beautiful woman shook the crime boss’s hand before turning to leave the scene. As a group of Harley’s mob started heading toward the alley Katherine turned and started running in the opposite direction as fast as she could. Sure enough, she heard shouts from behind a few seconds after her hurried departure.

She whirled, her gun unholstered, and shot at her pursuers, briefly halting their chase.

At the end of the alley, she quickly mounted her motorcycle and took off down the street, the shouts behind her growing ever more distant in seconds.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Things could’ve gone a lot differently. But now, she had a lead, and she knew, for a fact, it was connected to The Penguin. She just had to find him.

Pamela Isley stared toward the alley before whipping her gaze to Harley, a tall blond-haired fellow whose body was made of pure muscle.

“Did you set us up?” she demanded.

He turned to her. His gaze slid to Harley Quinn who was watching him carefully with that maniacal grin, her bat perched on her shoulder.

“Of course not,” he finally responded.

She nodded. “Good.” She turned her attention back to the alley, her eyes narrowing. “Then we are being watched.”

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