[b][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bA1PAkKD3Q4]Ready or Not: 
Pt. II[/url][/center]
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[b]Cameroon
Then[/b]


The jeep bounced up and down the poorly kept dirt road with a cloud of dust following in its wake through the countryside. The driver of the jeep chattered away in French while the young, dark-haired man in the passenger seat barely listened to him. Instead the passenger's eyes were focused on what lay ahead. The road began a slow and steady incline towards the peak of Mount Cameroon. The volcanic mountain was one of the premier spots for big game hunting in Central Africa. Everything from lions, elephants, chimps, and wild hogs mixed together in diverse bioshpere. The young man knew if he wanted to find a serious hunter, he would be here.

"Nous sommes arrivés, Monsieur Wayne," the driver said as the jeep skidded to a stop outside a grass hut.

"Oui, je vous remercie," the young man replied in flawless French. Two years "studying" in Paris had left him with a fluent understanding of the language. He handed the driver a handful of African Francs. The grabbed the canvas bag behind his seat and stepped out of the jeep. "Ce sera tout. Je peux le prendre à partir d'ici," he told the driver.

"Très bien. Ce vieil homme est fou. Vous avez besoin d'aide, tu m'appelles," the driver said with a nod.

"Oui. Je vais le faire, George."

The driver of the jeep reversed the vehicle and began back down the dirt road. The young man watched the jeep disappear down the road before turning to the hut. While he had his back turned a man had appeared out of nowhere with a rifle in his hands.

"Explain yourself," the man said in a slight Russian accent. He slid the rifle's bolt action and cycled a round into his the chamber. "Two seconds before I shoot you dead."

"My name," the young man said in English, his hands raised and his palms out "is Bruce Wayne. I came to speak to Sergi Kravinoff."

The older man looked at Wayne with narrowed eyes before he pulled his rifle back. "You want Kraven, richboy? You have found him. What do you want?"

"I seek knowledge," he said, and then softer said, "training."


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[b]Now
Old Gotham
8:04 PM
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I was crouched in the shadows watching the lone gunman from a safe distance. Shortly before five this afternoon he walked into a daycare and proceeded to take the staff and a dozen toddlers hostage. The cops had been involved in a standoff for a little over three hours. Major Gordon stood outside supervising the scene, but word from Gotham Central was that new commissioner Peter Pauling was getting antsy. His orders were pretty straightforward: Give Gordon an hour to negotiate . If that didn't work SWAT would bang down the doors. The only way that ended was with dead bodies and bullets.

There's a better way. I managed to infiltrate the police perimeter with ease and slip into the daycare unnoticed. I'd been stalking the hostage taker ever since. The fourteen hostages, twelve of them scared and frightened children, were huddled together in an adjacent room.

"Attention!" Gordon's voice boomed through a megaphone outside. While his voice carried his tone was hesitant. "This is Major James Gordon with the GCPD... You have forty-five minutes to come out with your hands up or we will... we will breech the doors."

The gunman began to pace and fidget nervously across the floor. I stayed still and watched as he wildly swung the pistol in his hands. A child in the following room started to cry. The gunman ran his hands through his head and started to exhale in short, fast breaths. He growled and started towards the room where the crying child was.

"Can you shut that goddamn kid u--," he stopped short as my forearm came out the shadows and struck him in the diaphragm. The gunman gagged and grasped for breath. I slapped the gun from his hand and drove him to the ground with a forceful thump, my left knee pressed into his throat.

"Run!" I shouted to the workers in the room next door. "Take the children and get out of here, but be careful!"

As the hostages and children began to leave the daycare I had the gunman pinned to the floor. He tried to claw at my leg and find some sort of purchase, but he was too weak. "Please --gaak -- lemme go. Just following orders."

I relented my grip and leered at the hostage taker. "What?"

"Russian guy," he said weakly. "Told me he'd kill my family if I didn't come in here and take people hostage."

I slammed my fist hard into the floor just inches from his head. "Why?!"

"I... I don't know!"

Heavy footsteps were coming in the next room. I let go of the kidnapper and disappeared just as a cop came into the room, her gun out. "I found him," she cried out. "He's in here!"

While the members of the GCPD began to fill in the room, I was already out the daycare and on the roof of the building across the street. Someone threatened that man to take hostages. Why?


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As Batman headed into the night, a pair of eyes watched him from a hidden vantage point. The man he had forced into service was adequate at doing his job. It had given him a chance to stake out the Batman and watch him in action. He was good. Patient, methodical, and ruthless when he needed to be. He needed more chances to watch his quarry, but for now Kraven the Hunter was convinced that the Batman would be a most worthy prey.