<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><span class="bbc_u"><strong>Arms and Espionage</strong></span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/3e/bf/a3/3ebfa3d0a6b84b11765aad83c2d496d4.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Batman (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=276885.msg13605226#msg13605226)<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Arizona, USA — "American AAE" weapons manufacturing plant<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>Oct. 25, 2017 - 0300<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Zatan (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=276885.msg13602880#msg13602880)<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Tactical Espionage Operations (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metal_Gear_Solid_V:_The_Phantom_Pain)<br/><hr/><br/>"What's the first step to solving a crime?"<br/><br/>He was back in the Batcave. Several brilliant LED displays illuminated the face of a young teenager with messy black hair and crystal blue eyes as he languidly clicked his way through a series of blueprints. The boy had long since lost his excitement over finally becoming part of an investigation, and had started to slump over the desktop.<br/><br/>"Robin."<br/><br/>The boy groaned and rubbed his temples. "I thought we were going to put Croc behind bars, Bruce, not sit around here all night."<br/><br/>Batman sighed and adjusted his elbow. He was reading the screens over the boy's shoulder, one arm pressed against the neck of the chair, the other hand propping him up against the desk of the Batcomputer.<em>Maybe he's not ready after all.</em><br/><br/>"Croc is only one small part of the puzzle," he answered swiftly. "Think, Robin. Why would<em>Weylon Jones</em>want to steal thousands of dollars from a jewelry store? He's a walking suit of armor; if he wanted something, there wouldn't be much standing between him and simply taking it."<br/><br/>"He's a criminal," Robin grumbled, clicking through yet another set of blueprints. This one showed the floor plan of Arkham Asylum. "It doesn't matter<em>why</em>he does it. Just that we stop him."<br/><br/>"Wrong answer." Batman shifted his weight and grabbed hold of the mouse. The boy's hand was still on it, and he struggled to free himself as Batman pulled the cursor to the corner of edge of the blueprint and zoomed in. "The first step to solving a crime, Robin. Look."<br/><br/>The boy grunted. His eyes lazily wandered back up to the screen, where they froze in place, finally connecting the dots. Last week, there had been a breakout in the Asylum. Nearly all of the patients had been rounded up except for two: Croc, and the patient adjacent to his cell. "<em>Her,</em>" he hissed.<br/><br/>"That's right. Now, the first step to solving a crime."<br/><br/>The energy flooded back into Robin's eyes as he stood up and nodded. "Know who benefits." He looked back at the screen and clenched his fist. "Poison Ivy."<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em>Know who benefits.</em>That night had been years ago, but the words he'd drilled into the boy still rang true. Batman laid against the edge of a plateau, practically invisible against the rusty backdrop of the Arizona desert. Through his binoculars, he could see dozens of armed guards patrolling through a maze of watchtowers and razor-wire fences. Of all the arms manufacturers in the United States, only one had recently had a large, non-governmental purchase. One in the hundreds of millions. Large enough to supply a small army.<em>Or a large militia.</em><br/><br/>'American AAE' was the name written on the official papers. There wasn't any clue as to what the acronym stood for, but what really drew Batman's attention was the money. It had been routed through dozens of shell companies and redistributed through hundreds of banks in various sums. A one-hundred million dollar anonymous payment. Somebody had gone through a lot of trouble to keep their name off the bill.<br/><br/>Even if this<em>wasn't</em>the company that supplied the militants that had attacked Metropolis, a payment like that would have earned Batman's undivided attention anyway. And now that he was here, his suspicions were only snowballing into a larger and larger group of concerns. This wasn't the factory that he'd studied blueprints of back in the Watchtower. This was a fortress.<br/><br/>It was good that Zatan had elected to come along. Normally, Batman would have preferred to operate alone in this situation, but the man's command over magic was sure to be a huge boon to the operation. With security this thick, any advantage was a welcome one.<br/><br/>Batman lowered his binoculars and twisted his neck to the side. It let out a sharp crack, and he grunted in satisfaction. After lying in the same position for six hours, he was starting to stiffen up. The time to move was coming soon, though. He had a pretty solid idea of the patrol routes and guard shifts now. The security was tight, but not without its blind spots. Especially when the extra benefits of magical manipulation were considered.<br/><br/>"There are five pairs of guards patrolling the perimeter fence with dogs," Batman said. His voice had a bit of an electronic tinge to it, as it was filtered through the helmet of his dark brown desert batsuit. "They maintain a constant speed and distance, making a gap of ten minutes in perimeter security." He pointed at the closest guard tower, approximately a quarter of a mile away. "The far east watchtower has a blindspot on the other side, where the welding shed blocks off sight from  anybody not immediately by the fence or in the next tower. We'll stage there during the gap."<br/><br/>Finally turning to look Zatan in the eye, he asked: "How strong is your skill with illusory magic?"