As he jumped on to the rooftop of the building that the Skartaris was in, he recalled how he had been watching this place for a few weeks. It had just opened up in the heart of the territory of Tobias Whale, a notorious gangster who controlled this section of Gotham. There were new businesses moving into this neighborhood, but Batman was confident that they were all paying protection money to stay here...and stay alive. He also knew that the owner of the Skartaris, Travis Morgan, would not pay.

And that was the reason for the fight that Batman could hear going on as he silently stepped down the stairs. It would only be a moment before gunshots would start ringing out...a moment of which Batman needed to take advantage.

This would have been a good time to use one of his Bat-Mites, but Batman wanted to test his own stealth abilities by walking down the stairs without anyone noticing him. His old karate sensei would have been proud of how quietly he stepped down the staircase.

One grey-haired man, with muscles bulging from a black T-shirt, was being held in a headlock by an even more muscular thug. Another thug had a gun pointed at the grey-haired man's face.

Batman prepared a special Batarang that he had just developed. The thugs were too busy interrogating the grey-haired man to notice the Batarang flying through the air.

The Batarang hit the thug with the gun, and also delivered a devastating electrical shock that knocked the thug cold. The grey-haired man was able to slip out of the headlock and smash the other thug in the face with a cheap bottle of wine. As the thug grabbed at his bleeding face, the grey-haired man kneed him in the groin, then brought the butt of the other thug's pistol down on his head. Both thugs lay unconscious on the floor.

"Well, you didn't need my help that much, I see..." Batman said as he came out of the shadows.

"I guess not," the proprietor chuckled. "Thanks for your help, though. These thugs have been bothering me for a while...they just turned violent tonight. My name is Travis Morgan...I've been known as the Warlord, but it's just Travis now."

"The Warlord, hmm. I'm Batman, if you didn't already know that." Batman looked at the freshly painted walls of the bar, and the shiny brass fixtures. "It's tough opening a business in Tobias Whale's territory..."

Morgan started to wipe the spilled wine off the counter with a well-used rag. "You're telling me! His goons have been hitting me up for protection money from the moment I opened this joint. But nobody was able to keep me from getting what I wanted in Skartaris, and nobody's going to keep me from keeping this bar open. This bar is all I have...on this side of the planet, anyway."

Batman could not figure Travis Morgan out. For all intents and purposes, he seemed to be a normal guy with definitely some combat expertise, but all this Skartaris stuff was way out there.

"Hm," Batman responded. "You're certainly different, Morgan, I'll give you that. Why don't you give the police a call, so they can clean up these two thugs?"

"Good idea. More thugs will come around, I'm sure," Morgan said. He reached under the bar, and pulled out a nicely polished, long-barreled Colt .45 pistol. "But I'll be ready for 'em next time."

"I hope that weapon is registered," Batman said. He then turned, opened up the front door of the bar, and disappeared quickly outside.

He had consulted Oracle for help, and the two of them had been able to match the fabric to a kind manufactured in Brazil. But the Black Assassin must have had an operation or connections set up here in the United States for him to have been able to track Agatha Haggschwarz down and kill her.

Oracle and Batman had also searched for any trace of the Assassin's recent activities. There was little record of the Black Assassin anywhere, just an isolated incident here or there that bore the mark of a deadly ex-Nazi. Some of the Assassin's alleged crimes were horrific -- particularly an attack on an Illinois synagogue during Shabbat services which left half the attendees dead.

Oracle noted that it was rumored that the Black Assassin was one of the leaders of a far-reaching and powerful neo-Nazi group, one with thousands of members across the United States. There was very little information available on this subject, though.

Batman puzzled over the mystery behind the Black Assassin...but he knew that he would find the ex-Nazi someday...someday soon.

Just then, Alfred called through the intercom.

"Excuse me, Master Bruce. Two..er, gentlemen from the New York Police Department here to see you."

"Thanks, Alfred. Please show them into the sitting room." Batman wondered why the police were visiting, and promptly prepared to meet his visitors as Bruce Wayne.

Kyle remembered going to the Gotham House building, and being accompanied by a fierce-looking guard as they rode up on a golden elevator to a posh penthouse floor lined with potted palm trees. He remembered when he first saw the huge mass of flesh that was his employer turn around in his large leather chair.

Tobias Whale's skin was so white that he seemed to be a person whom had not yet been painted by the world around him. He indeed seemed to be like a white whale that had grown legs and decided to take over the world, starting from Gotham and moving on from there.

Kyle remembered how long Whale had sat and regarded him with sharklike eyes before he made the offer.

Whale had asked a fateful question. "How would you like to do something for me that would help pay back what you owe me?"

"Sure," Kyle had said before he realized what he was saying.

And that was how Kyle's career working for Tobias Whale as Nighthawk began. He was given this technological marvel of a costume, with wings that connected to a cyber-scalp in his costume. With a thought he could expand or contract the wings, which had tiny but effective laser guns on them.

Kyle had received a short but intense course in martial arts from the Taskmaster, a villain who had recently fought Batman, and had taught Kyle how to counter the Masked Manhunter's fighting skills.

But he was not to fight the Batman yet. He had a mission to do for Whale first. He was to capture a recalcitrant bar owner who refused to pay Whale protection money, and he was to do as much damage to the bar as possible. He could manage that. After all, he was off the hook as far as his debts were concerned.

As long as he kept working for Whale.

Nighthawk expanded his wings, ignited the jets that powered them, and soared off into the night toward the Skartaris Bar to teach Travis Morgan a lesson, courtesy of Tobias Whale.

"Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Wayne," Dibny said, looking around the posh foyer. "Would you mind answering a few questions?"

"Certainly not, gentlemen. Please have a seat in the sitting room over here. Alfred, fetch them something to drink."

"I'll take coffee, Alfred," Bullock snorted rudely. "Black!"

"I'll take a cola if you have one," Dibny asked in a much more polite manner.

"Certainly, sirs," Alfred sniffed as he walked away.

"I'm going to get to the point, Wayne," said Bullock as he sat down on the plush maroon sofa in the sitting room. "We got this old lady, Agatha Haggschwarz, who knew almost nobody, and all of a sudden, she ends up murdered."

Wayne winced at the all-too-recent memory of the woman lying in her rest home bed, strangled with her own intravenous tubes.

"And you were the last one with her before the lights go out and she gets killed."

"Yes, I came back after checking the fuse box to find her dead."

"And then you ran. That's a funny thing to do for someone who isn't guilty."

"Come on, Harvey," Dibny said, putting his hand on his partner's shoulder. "Let Mr. Wayne tell us his side of the story."

"Not to be contrary, my friends, but I've already made a statement to the police," Wayne said. "You know all about the Black Assassin, and how I saw him fleeing the crime scene."

"And I know all about how I used to see Santy Claus every Christmas when I was a little tyke!" Bullock retorted. "The nurses at the rest home said they heard you two arguing before Haggschwarz was killed. What were you arguing about with this poor sick old lady?"

It was at this moment that Wayne knew that to exonerate himself, he would have to tell these two men his deepest, darkest secret.

He thought a moment about what he had been told to do to Morgan. He had never hurt anyone for money before. He had sold and bought all kinds of drugs, and been a lookout for pranks and small larcenies, but never had he been involved in roughing someone up. But his newly-developed martial arts skills would help him, along with the powers his suit possessed, in doing his job.

It would only be a little while before he would attack. And Morgan would learn to fear Tobias Whale...and Nighthawk.

All of a sudden, Alfred returned to the sitting room, obviously in a hurry.

"Master Bruce! There's...an urgent call for you!"

"Oh," Wayne said, knowing what Alfred meant. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, there's an appointment I have to make..."

Bullock stared long and hard at Wayne. He didn't like trust-fund babies, let alone handsome ones like Wayne. But they didn't have enough evidence to arrest Wayne...not yet, anyway.

"C'mon, Dibny," he said, putting the stub of a used cigar he had in his trenchcoat into the bone china coffee cup. "Let's go. And Wayne," Bullock called as he reached the door. "I wouldn't go too far out of the New York City area if I were you. We might have some more questions."

"Good night, gentlemen," Wayne said.

And the moment they reached the door, Wayne rushed to the secret entrance to the Batcave. He knew that Travis Morgan was in danger.

Morgan was not unprepared for Nighthawk, though. He hid under the bar and waited for a pause in the blasting of the liquor bottles. When Nighthawk paused to let his wing blasters recharge, Morgan jumped up and began firing.

Travis swore he would have hit his attacker on the first shot, if not for his attacker's aerial agility. He couldn't waste too many shots on his flying assailant; Morgan only had ten bullets left.

Nighthawk, having energized his wing lasers, got ready to swoop in for the final attack run on Morgan.

But just then two flying sharp objects flew at his wing tips and cut through the barrels of his wing lasers, effectively disabling them. The sharp objects impacted in the wooden wall, and Nighthawk could see that they were razor-sharp Bat-stars, the signature weapon of the Batman.

Nighthawk turned to see Batman standing in the middle of the barroom floor.

"Nice costume, pal. A little reminiscent of mine, don't you think?"

"Batman!" Nighthawk couldn't believe he had come face-to-face with the Darknight Detective. He was very nervous now; Travis Morgan was just a bartender, albeit one armed with a nasty Colt .45; but Batman was a big-time superhero. Nighthawk knew he would have to take this fight to a place that was more favorable for someone with wings.

He soared across the barroom and picked up Travis Morgan. Even with his suit's enhanced strength, the bartender was a handful, especially as he tried to wrestle his way out of Nighthawk's grip. Nighthawk made his wing jets give a huge thrust and the two of them flew out the large hole in the front window and up into the sky. Nighthawk could see Batman following them out of the corner of his eye. The crimefighter certainly was relentless.

Nighthawk dropped Morgan hard, intentionally, on the roof of a building across the street from the Skartaris bar. Morgan was stunned by the fall. This was good, as Batman had already made his way up to the roof to confront Nighthawk.

Nighthawk landed on the roof and turned around. Batman reached into his utility belt and pulled a small cartridge from it. As it reached the ground, it exploded near Nighthawk, blinding him.

Batman leapt across the rooftop and grappled with Nighthawk. He had Nighthawk's arms pinned behind him when Nighthawk came around and realized that Batman had gained the upper hand.

Nighthawk made his wing-jets ignite and took off into the sky with Batman holding him. Then he took advantage of the wrestling training he had had with Taskmaster, and managed to wriggle out of Batman's hold to where he now held Batman.

He took a moment to look at Batman as he held him over the gaping alleyway. Batman struggled, but he was clearly concerned for his safety, being forty feet in the air over 4th Street.

Nighthawk knew that he could throw Batman down to the street below and make Whale very happy. He would then be able to collect Morgan and bring him to Whale for whatever the crimelord was going to do to the bartender. But the vigilance of Batman in defending an everyman like Travis Morgan made him pause. All through his life of dissolute partying, he had secretly thrilled when he had read in the newspapers about the latest maniac Batman had captured. Maybe it would be better to be like Batman than to be a hired gun for Whale. Nighthawk held Batman up in the air for just a little while longer.

Long enough for Travis Morgan to draw a bead on him and shoot him in the leg.

"Arrgh!" Nighthawk drifted over to a nearby rooftop. He let Batman drop to the roof, and then took off into the air, with blood spurting from his gunshot wound as he flew away.

Batman collected himself as Travis Morgan bounded across the space between the rooftops to the one where the crimefighter was.

"Are you all right?"

"What the hell were you doing with that gun?"

"He was going to drop you, Batman. I stopped him."

"He wasn't going to," Batman replied. "Apparently, you and that gun can defend yourselves well enough without my help. If you choose to keep this place open here, then you'll have to defend it yourself. I don't like...guns..."

"Be reasonable, Batman! Come on! We'd be a great team! You should have seen the creatures I fought in Skartaris."

"You're nuts, Morgan, with all that Skartaris stuff. Take care of yourself--maybe you should see a psychologist! Rotors here in two," he spoke into his glove.

And with that, the Batcopter appeared, and Batman was gone. Again, the police came in to investigate the ruckus. And the Nighthawk flew away into the midnight sky over Gotham, free...for now...