Meanwhile, in a café on the outskirts of Smallville—a quiet town just outside Metropolis—
General Lane stared blankly at the phone his daughter had just hung up. Seeing his bewildered expression, Louis swallowed hard and handed it back to him.
"That call… it must have been from Miss Haino Lawrence—the girl Downton kidnapped last night. She sounded… almost sympathetic toward him. Like she's got Stockholm syndrome?"
"Screw Stockholm!" General Lane cut in, his voice sharp. "Don't try to excuse her. I know Stockholm syndrome—it requires sustained interaction, psychological manipulation, isolation… not one hour of captivity! In less than sixty minutes? What the hell could they possibly have discussed? Either Haino's playing us, or she's lost her damn mind."
He rubbed his beard in frustration, then exhaled slowly.
"Still… Haino's mother is a formidable woman. Michelle Lawrence wields serious influence in the Department of Defense. The Deputy Secretary spot is already rare for a woman—the U.S. has never had a female Secretary of Defense. But if anyone's got a shot at breaking that ceiling? It's Michelle."
His expression darkened.
Louis frowned, sensing the shift. "Can Haino's opinion sway her mother? Could she make things difficult for you, Father?"
"Not directly," Lane admitted. "I'm not afraid of some pampered kid. And Michelle wouldn't stoop to petty retaliation—at least, not openly. But she does control Army appropriations for the next two fiscal years. That puts me in a… delicate position."
He sighed, then signaled a nearby guard.
"Maintain the cordon around Smallville. Focus on vehicles—especially unmarked or armored ones. If Haino Lawrence appears, use tranq darts immediately. Those aren't just for Downton."
He paused, voice lowering.
"I don't want a war with the Lawrences. But let's be clear: taking Haino into custody isn't just about security—it's a favor to Deputy Secretary Michelle. She'll thank me later."
His soldiers dispersed, moving swiftly through the quiet streets.
Just as the operation began, Louis's phone rang again.
General Lane's eyes narrowed. He snatched the device, checked the screen—then handed it back with a curt nod.
Meanwhile, in Gotham City, Downton stood atop the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge—the city's newest span, named for the late philanthropist and former mayor.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He answered with a lazy grin. "Liv. What's up? If you're calling to cheer me up, you'll have to lose the clothes and go live on video."
"Downton~" came Liv's drawn-out purr from the other end.
"I've got eyes on Victor Zsasz, and they tell me you've brought Yuri into your little circle. So I've been tracking your locator—you did ask me to install it, darling. How could I not peek?"
She paused, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"You're heading toward Metropolis, aren't you? I see you've just crossed the Kane Bridge. Good. But listen—Louis, the reporter you're meeting? Her father's General Lane. Last night, he mobilized experimental sonic emitters from the War Department, a stockpile of military-grade tranquilizers… and, rumor has it, even a few classified viral agents from DoD black labs."
She chuckled. "Guess who those toys are meant for? If I were you, I'd say thank you."
"Thank you, darling~" Downton whistled, amused. "Your intel network's tighter than Batman's grip on Gotham. Did Falcone set this up for you?"
From her booth in the Iceberg Lounge, Liv raised her glass, took a slow sip of whiskey, and shook her head with a knowing smile.
Meanwhile, Liv answered Downton's call.
"I've worked with His Excellency Falcone for eight years," she said, voice smooth but edged with steel, "and in all that time, he's trusted me completely."
She paused just long enough for the implication to settle.
"It turns out I'm rather capable. With Gotham's resources—thirty million souls and counting—and nothing but my wits and will, I've moved mountains."
"Impressive, Liv," Downton replied, playing along. "I admire you more by the minute."
Liv chuckled softly. "Flattery suits you. But I should mention— the man you just crippled? Two years ago, the GCPD named him an Honorary Deputy Commissioner."
Downton's laughter crackled through the line—sharp, mirthless.
"Honorary? Please. In Gotham, that title's usually handed out to the guy who breaks the most skulls without leaving a paper trail. As for the police…" His voice dropped, colder now. "When have I ever needed their goodwill? Let them try to kill me again. I'll send them a thank-you note."
A beat of silence. Then, lighter: "Anyway, I'm almost across the bridge. Know a decent barbershop in Metropolis?"
"I'll send you one," Liv said. "Be careful, Boss Ghost."
She hung up and texted him the address.
Downton showed the location to Bartel, then dialed another number.
A moment later:
"Hello, this is Louis!"
"Not bad," Downton said. "You kept your word—didn't pass the phone to anyone else."
"I… I did," she began.
"No need to explain. Send me your location. I'll come see you after I clean up—haircut, fresh clothes, the works."
His interruption tightened the air on the other end. Louis hesitated, then spoke softly:
"I'll send it… but I'm not in Metropolis. I have a last-minute interview—"
"Wait."
Silence.
On the other end, Louis frowned and glanced at her father, General Lane, who raised a hand, about to speak—
—but Downton's voice cut back in, low and unwavering:
"Even if you're at a military base, I'll be there. So don't waste time explaining why you're 'outside Metropolis.' Some truths are kinder when left unspoken."
He paused. "We'll talk when I see you."
The call ended. A second later, a text appeared on Louis's screen:
Location.
She swallowed hard. That tone again—the one that made her spine prickle. After a breath, she typed back:
Smallville. Love Café. Good luck.
Downton read the message and smirked at Bartel.
"That girl… still thinks 'good luck' is a warning."
He pocketed the phone and turned to the window. The Metropolis skyline glittered ahead—close enough to touch.
How close were Gotham and Metropolis?
Close enough that on a clear night, when the Bat-Signal lit the clouds over Gotham, its ghostly glow could be seen from the rooftops of Metropolis.