Gotham City, United States
Blackgate PenitentiaryTed Carson looked to the sky and caught sight of the Batwing. "He's here." The gang leader muttered. Canisters of gas fell from the back of the jet as it screeched above their heads. The vigilante's vehicle disappeared from sight as the first canister exploded, sending plumes of smoke in all directions and blinding the Firefly gang. "What's this s'pose ta do?" Marvin chuckled, wading through the dense smog in search of his partners in crime. "Keep us from seeing the Bat when he comes in and kicks our asses, I'd reckon." Jenkins answered, his voice carrying through the fog. Their banter ceased at the terrifying sounds of Sanchez's screams. Ted clenched the flamethrower tighter and moved toward the direction the screams were coming from. Jenkins and Marvin appeared a few meters behind Carson, Pulaski and SMG in hand. "Why's he still screaming?" Marvin whispered. "Dunno. Thought he'd be dead by now." Jenkins panicked response was enough to get a rise out of their leader, who turned to look at them long enough to motion for silence.
Sanchez was in a bad way when they found him. The half-Mexican Gothamite was gripping his bare face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pulled his legs up into the fetal position. "It burns, boss." Ted grabbed Sanchez's mask off the ground next to him and shoved it into the thug's hand. "Put yer freakin' mask on! That's what they're for!" The grateful criminal nodded his head and strapped the device back onto his face. Ted and his companions rendezvoused with the other eight members of his team moments later outside the cloud of tear gas and smoke. Where's Batman?" One of them asked, impatiently stroking the barrel of his assault rifle.
As if on cue, the Batwing appeared from the sky once more. "We've got incoming!" Jenkins shouted. "Open fire!" Carson ordered. The nine members of the gang wielding guns turned their weapons on the Batwing. The vigilante responded with a hail of rubber bullets. Carson, Marvin and another Firefly dove for any reasonable cover as the crowd of armed assailants fell to the ground in a heap of pain and suffering. "That thing's fuckin' bullet proof!" Jenkins cried out, desperately attempting to shield himself from the Batman's wrath by hiding under a wooden bench. A tense few seconds passed. The plane had disappeared after the first volley and had yet to show up again.
"He's made his own entrance two floors up. I want you to take up defensive positions in the kitchen, one floor above you. There's a stairway twenty meters down the hallway to your right. Do your best to avoid the roving bands of prisoners. Their actions have been...unpredictable.""What about the plan? Our traps?"
"No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy. We adapt and move forward. Blow the back entrance and get moving."
Meanwhile, on the third floor, Deathstroke's goons were already prepared for Batman's arrival. In fact, they had made their way to the prison the moment news of the riot broke out. A squad of eight professional mercenaries armed with high tech, military-grade gear (that looked nearly identical to the equipment used by Gotham's SWAT teams) watched over four security guards they had taken hostage. "Please...don't do this. I've got kids, man." One of them pleaded. None of his captors responded;
they merely allowed his cries for mercy to go unanswered.
"Gamma team, do you copy?" "This is Gamma team. Go ahead."
"Are you in position?""Yes sir."
"Excellent. The Bat will be arriving ahead of schedule; he's dodged the first two obstacles I set out for him. Prepare the bait." With that, Deathstroke broke off communications with Gamma. A mercenary approached the hostages and duck tapped their mouths firmly shut. The team dragged the bound security guards out into the hallway. "Five...six...seven. Put them here." The leader motioned toward where he'd just stepped; his men complied. They moved with quickly and efficiently, much faster than their untrained counter parts down stairs. Each of the guards was wrapped in a lead vest laced with explosives underneath their uniforms.
The plan was a simple one. The disguised mercenaries would engage Batman. He would defeat them; and when the vigilante went to rescue the guards, the bombs would detonate. By that time the Firefly gang would've already artificially weakened the floor using their two flamethrowers, allowing the explosives to demolish the ceiling. The near-dead Batman would then free fall into the kitchen below, where the waiting Firefly gang would attempt to subdue him. Deathstroke suspected that the Bat would survive, perhaps even escape. But the vigilante would be sufficiently weakened to allow the Terminator to take him down without much trouble.
"I love it when a plan comes together." 
Member
