Lex hadn't been at Wayne Manor long.
He was a recent arrival. A survivor who'd proven useful on one mission. No one would question why he didn't volunteer.
Which made the fact that he did volunteer even more significant.
Before departure, he met with Gordon one final time.
The Batcomputer projected a holographic layout of Wayne Tower between them—rotating slowly in cool blue light.
Gordon pointed to the base level.
"Joker's primary control zone is here. First floor."
Several corridors on the projection blinked red.
"He destroyed the stairwells leading up. Blew them out. That keeps the infected from wandering down."
Smart.
Contain the chaos above. Rule below.
Gordon zoomed in toward the entrance.
"This is the outer defensive line. Eight armed guards rotating shifts. Twenty-four-hour coverage."
Weapon icons populated the display.
"Assault rifles. Heavy machine guns. At least one rocket launcher. Confirmed sniper overwatch."
Lex studied the map quietly.
Static fortification. Predictable arcs of fire. Limited mobility.
"If we breach that," Gordon continued, "the lobby is their central staging area."
The hologram shifted again.
"Unknown exact firepower inside. We do know Wayne Enterprises' underground weapons storage is intact."
A blinking freight elevator shaft glowed beneath the building.
"He destroyed every access route to the basement except this one cargo lift."
Single chokepoint.
Controlled funnel.
Joker was thinking defensively.
"This is what we know," Gordon said. "Thoughts?"
"You want to know how I'm getting in," Lex replied.
Gordon nodded.
Because everything else depended on that.
Lex smiled slightly.
"Simple. Kick the door in, grab a gun, start shooting."
Gordon blinked.
"Please tell me you're not serious."
Lex laughed.
"It's very cinematic, though, right?"
Gordon didn't smile.
"That would get you killed in seconds."
Lex's expression shifted back to focus.
"Alright. Real answer."
He tapped the Batmobile icon on the display.
"I drive straight through."
Gordon stared at him.
"The vehicle's armor can handle their first line easily. Scrap-metal barricades won't survive impact."
He pointed at the heavy weapons markers.
"Your real problem is the machine gun and rocket operator."
"Barbara's on this mission?" Lex asked.
"Yes."
"Good."
He zoomed into the sniper perch.
"Have her take out the heavy gunner and rocket launcher first. Precision shots."
"After that, their defensive advantage collapses."
Gordon stared at the layout for several seconds.
The logic held.
Batmobile absorbs first wave. Sniper neutralizes heavy threats. Chaos opens the gate.
"Continue," Gordon said.
"Once inside," Lex went on, "I prioritize disabling concentrated firing positions."
"Create internal confusion."
He looked at Gordon directly.
"When you receive my signal, you move."
"Combined pressure. Outside and inside."
Gordon folded his arms.
"It sounds solid."
Then his voice lowered.
"But we don't know what's waiting in that lobby."
"And you'll be alone."
Lex tilted his head.
"You planning to come in with me?"
Gordon hesitated.
"You know why that's impossible."
"Yes," Lex said evenly. "Because I'm going in as Batman."
Batman didn't move in squads.
Batman didn't bring volunteers.
If anyone followed him inside, the illusion cracked.
And tonight wasn't just about winning.
It was about reinforcing belief.
Two objectives.
Cripple Joker's forces.
Solidify Batman's return.
If the identity fractured, both objectives failed.
Gordon exhaled slowly.
"Is there anything else you need?"
Lex shook his head.
"Just good timing."
Gordon extended his hand.
Lex shook it.
"Be careful," Gordon said quietly. "Don't get reckless."
Lex held his gaze.
"You too."
Minutes later, the Batmobile roared out of the cave.
Gordon and twenty volunteers departed along a separate route, moving quietly through side streets.
—
Wayne Tower loomed ahead like a gravestone against the ruined skyline.
Once Gotham's symbol of corporate dominance.
Now a fortified nest of madness.
The barricade at its entrance wasn't elegant.
Scrapped vehicles welded together. Concrete chunks. Wooden beams.
Effective against desperate civilians.
Useless against a military-grade assault vehicle.
Outside the perimeter, boredom ruled.
A middle-aged sniper with a missing front tooth adjusted his scope.
"Thirty-seven," he muttered proudly after dropping another wandering infected.
Two meters to his right, a massive man with a beard—Harris—sat behind an M2 heavy machine gun. He stabbed canned meat with a knife and chewed lazily.
"Harris," the sniper called. "I'm at thirty-seven."
Harris snorted, tossed the empty can aside, and squeezed the trigger.
The machine gun roared.
Zombies in the street disintegrated under a storm of bullets.
When the smoke cleared, bodies littered the pavement.
Harris leaned back smugly.
"Looks like I win again, Witt."
Witt waved angrily.
"You wasted thousands of rounds! I used forty bullets for thirty-seven kills!"
"Statistics say I win!"
Harris reloaded casually.
"Numbers are numbers. I dropped more."
"Keep burning ammo like that," Witt snapped, "and you'll be zombie food when supplies run dry!"
"Shut it," came a third voice.
A one-eyed man perched higher in the barricade lowered his binoculars slightly.
"Did you hear that?"
The others paused.
Harris tilted his head.
"Engine. Far off."
Witt adjusted his scope toward the distant road.
Then he froze.
"Oh… hell."
Harris laughed.
"Don't start."
Witt's voice cracked.
"That's not a normal engine."
The one-eyed man raised his binoculars again.
A black shape cut through the ruined street—low, armored, unmistakable.
His face drained of color.
"It's real."
He jumped down from the barricade.
"Batman! Positions! Now!"
The word spread like electricity.
Laughter vanished.
Safety vanished.
Rifles were lifted.
Heavy gun pivoted.
Rocket launcher adjusted.
Behind the reinforced windshield, Lex watched their scramble calmly.
Heart steady.
HUD active.
Target indicators flickered across his vision.
Machine gun—identified.
Rocket operator—identified.
Sniper nest—identified.
He opened a secure channel.
"Barbara," he said quietly. "Priority targets marked."
A calm voice responded in his earpiece.
"Copy."
The Batmobile's engine deepened into a growl.
The barricade rushed closer.
Inside the tower lobby, somewhere beyond the concrete and steel—
The Joker would be smiling.
Good.
Lex pressed the accelerator.
And the Batmobile became a missile.
....
Want to read ahead by more than 60 chapters. Then join my pa*treon now.
Link: pa*treon.com/Amelie796 (Remove the *)
Also you can read till chapter 17 chapters for free.