The subway train rumbled through the track. A thin line cutting through densely packed buildings. Only the rich and powerful had access to the subway trains that loomed over the city and Catwoman could see them through the window, all wearing their expensive clothes and jewellery, preoccupied with the newspapers and phones in front of them while the city rot beneath them.

He was late. Catwoman had had her fair share of run-ins with the Batman like every idiot who decided to wear a wacky costume in this city. She didn’t know the guy very well but she figured he wasn’t the type to keep a girl waiting. She figured wrong.

She twirled her nails, looking over the city beneath her when she heard the wind rustle behind her.

“You’re late.”

She got up, turning around and walking towards him, running her fingers through the symbol on his chest.

“You shouldn’t keep a girl waiting, you know?”

Batman grabbed her wrist with a firm grip. Catwoman slipped her hand through his grip.

“I’m not here to play games.”

Catwoman pouted. “You’re no fun, are you?”

“We’re here for business only,” Batman said. “Not for fun.”

“No wonder you don’t have a Bat-Girlfriend,” Catwoman said.

Batman showed her a photo of a man with dark skin, curly hair and a crafty grin on his face.

“Turk Barret,” Batman said. “Small-time gangster and two-bit thug working in Crime Alley. A while back he was just some no-name trying to make a name for himself. Now…”

Batman showed her another photo of weapons she’d only seen in news stories last year.

“Gordon and his crew found a stash of these last night,” Batman said. “They managed to haul most of the people involved in the deal, small time gangs around town but Turk managed to escape.”

“Vibranium Weapons.”

Batman nodded. “Yes. These ones are more subtle. Less of a spectacle like the ones from last year but still dangerous. We assumed Penguin had stashes hidden all over the city but before we could interrogate him, he escaped.”

“So, what do you need me for?”

“Turk’s been supplying weapons everywhere,” Batman said. “Weapons a thug like him shouldn’t have access to, let alone afford. When we met the other night I went through the books you left behind, apparently Falcone money has been laundered to Turk to buy weapons from the Penguin.”

“Hold on,” Catwoman said. “That doesn’t make sense. Falcone hated the Penguin. He hates all these ‘freaks’ as he likes to call them. There’s no way he’d make deals with him.”

“Exactly,” Batman said. “Things are changing and I don’t like it.”

“So, what do you need me for?”

“Turk has evaded mine and police capture for so long,” Batman said. “Until now.”

Batman cast a holographic image at the centre of the building. It was an old apartment building that Catwoman was somewhat familiar with.

“I saw a few mercenaries go into this building,” Batman said. “Turk has been keeping his activity down after the recent bust but a few of my sources traced him over here. We just have to find him and squeeze the answers out of him.”

“That’s great and all,” Catwoman said. “But what does this have to do with Falcone? I was promised answers not a job as your part-time sidekick.”

“Turk is dealing on behalf of the Falconies,” Batman said. “If we can find the weapon stashes and destroy them…”

Catwoman realised where Batman was getting at. “We can get the big guy’s attention.”

Batman nodded. “Now let’s move out. We have no time to waste.”

“Already on it,” Catwoman said.

They leaped together atop the buildings they both knew with efficiency and grace, almost as if they were dancing in the moonlight.

…

Holly and Felicia met at the bus station. Soon they were a few kilometres away from Gotham. The bus stopped at the station and Holly and Felicia trekked through the woods to the co-ordinates written on the card, passing through mansions spaced apart by large acres of wood. This was where the rich and powerful of Gotham stayed, far away, removed from the problems going on in the city below them.

Holly and Felicia could barely believe their eyes when they stood by the place the coordinates indicated.

It was a mansion, two storeys and bright white. Felicia and Holly stepped in front of the silver gates with a large oval in the middle. The oval shined a red light on them and the gate opened.

A cobblestone pathway surrounded by lush greenery led to the manor. Fancy trimmed hedges lined the pathway and standing by the door was none other than the Cat.

He was still wearing a white suit but he didn’t have a hat on revealing peppermint hair.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the Cat said as they made their way to the door. “Make yourself at home.”