Nolan sat in the middle of the server room, surrounded on all sides by towering cabinets of equipment whose quiet hum had become the background noise of his life. Rows of blinking lights stretched into the darkness behind him, each one representing some portion of the Continental's digital infrastructure. The room was normally cold enough to make him uncomfortable, but Nolan barely noticed it now. His attention was fixed entirely on the monitor in front of him as his fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard.
"Jesus Christ," he muttered, staring at another string of code that appeared on the screen. "How is he doing this?"
Bruce Wayne had developed a remarkable talent for becoming a persistent irritation in Nolan's life. At first, it had been simple competition. Wayne Industries would appear at an auction and bid on a property Nolan had quietly targeted, forcing the Continental to either overpay or walk away. Then came the financial pressure, the subtle attempts to squeeze his businesses, and now this. Bruce had apparently decided that breaking into Nolan's servers was a reasonable use of his evening.
Nolan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. "Marcy, how are things looking on your end?"
Marcy sat at a workstation several feet away, a tablet open beside her and three different monitors displaying streams of information. She looked as though she had aged several years in the last hour alone. "I don't understand it. These servers are independent. They're not connected to anything outside of the hotel systems, and even those connections are supposed to be isolated. He shouldn't be able to get into this."
Nolan stared at the screen for another moment before grimacing. "His technology is newer than ours, and apparently whoever designed their security knew exactly what they were doing. We're fighting someone who can afford to throw ridiculous amounts of money at a problem until the problem stops existing."
"That sounds suspiciously like something you would do."
Nolan glanced toward her.
Marcy gave him a tired smile.
"Fair point," he admitted.
He looked back at the server rack. Whatever Bruce had found, Nolan wasn't willing to give him the opportunity to explore it any further. There were too many secrets buried inside the Continental's systems, too many names, transactions, surveillance records, and pieces of information that could become dangerous if they fell into the wrong hands. He had no intention of discovering exactly how much Bruce already knew.
"Move to Plan B."
Marcy's expression immediately became serious. "You're sure?"
"Kill it."
Nolan stood and walked toward one of the larger server cabinets. He opened a concealed panel, revealing a small control interface that had been installed specifically for situations like this. His finger hovered over the large red button for a moment before he pressed it.
The effect was immediate. The steady hum that had filled the room disappeared, leaving behind a silence so complete that Nolan could hear the faint ringing in his own ears.
He exhaled slowly.
"We're going to have to make the transition sooner than planned."
Marcy's tablet began vibrating almost immediately.
"I've already got calls coming in," she said, glancing at the screen. "Hotel systems are going down. People are having trouble checking in, reservations aren't updating properly, and the front desks are reporting problems with the payment systems."
"Switch to the ledgers."
Marcy stared at him.
"The physical ones?"
"The physical ones," Nolan confirmed. "We planned for this. The hotels can function without the servers until we get everything rebuilt."
"That is going to be a nightmare."
"Probably."
"And the gala is tomorrow."
Nolan smiled faintly.
"Exactly. Bruce is going to expect us to spend the next few days scrambling to repair everything. Instead, we're going to use the old systems, rebuild the network, and start moving the data from server to server tomorrow night."
Marcy looked unconvinced.
Nolan pushed away from the cabinet and straightened his jacket. "He won't have time to keep digging if I give him something else to chew on."
"Something else?"
Nolan's smile widened.
"The entire Justice League."
Marcy stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Between Bruce and the Arrow, they're really becoming a nuisance."
"You have no idea."
****
"There hasn't been an event here in almost a year," a portly man whispered excitedly as he climbed the grand staircase toward the entrance of the Continental. His face was already flushed with excitement, and he kept adjusting the cuffs of his suit as though afraid someone might notice they were slightly too tight. "We were lucky to get invited."
His wife followed beside him, looking considerably less enthusiastic. She glanced toward the impressive façade of the hotel before lowering her voice. "I know, honey. I just wish it wasn't being hosted by that man."
Her husband immediately looked around.
"Don't say things like that here."
"I didn't say it loudly."
"You don't have to. Someone could hear you."
The woman rolled her eyes but lowered her voice nonetheless. They were swallowed by the growing crowd as they entered the Continental, joining a steady stream of Gotham's wealthy, influential, and socially ambitious. Men in tailored suits mingled with women wearing dresses that probably cost more than most Gotham apartments. Politicians, executives, philanthropists, socialites, and old-money families filled the lobby while photographers waited near the entrance for the arrival of anyone important enough to make tomorrow's papers.
"He's a respectable businessman," the husband whispered, apparently trying to convince himself as much as his wife. "A saint, if you believe half the things people say about him."
"I know."
Then the crowd near the entrance shifted.
A murmur rolled through the lobby.
The couple turned with everyone else.
"Bruce Wayne," the woman whispered.
Bruce entered the Continental with the practiced smile of a man who had spent most of his adult life being watched. His tuxedo was immaculate, his posture relaxed, and his expression carried the effortless charm Gotham expected from him. He paused long enough to greet a few guests before taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.
The crowd seemed to part naturally around him.
Bruce didn't notice.
Or at least he gave every indication that he didn't.
He had barely taken three steps toward a group of executives when a familiar voice called across the lobby.
"Bruce!"
Bruce turned.
Kieran Everleigh approached with a broad smile, looking every bit the gracious host. His suit was perfectly fitted, his hair immaculate, and his expression carried none of the tension that Bruce knew had existed between them in recent weeks.
"My friend," Kieran said warmly as he reached him. "I'm glad you could make it. I was beginning to worry you might have found yourself busy."
Bruce smiled in return. "Kieran. How have you been?"
"Amazing. Business is booming, I've been getting far more involved in philanthropy, and I've even been improving my cybersecurity."
Kieran slipped an arm around Bruce and pulled him into a brief, friendly embrace before lowering his voice.
"Say, you wouldn't happen to know a guy who could help with that, would you?"
Bruce chuckled politely. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't."
Kieran's smile never faltered as he guided Bruce away from the crowd and toward one of the quieter private rooms overlooking the ballroom.
"Let's catch up," he said. "We haven't had a proper conversation in ages."
Once the door closed behind them, the warmth vanished from Kieran's expression.
"Your scramblers are already active, aren't they?"
Bruce tapped the device hidden beneath his sleeve.
Kieran produced a small electronic device of his own and clicked it on. A faint tone sounded before the room fell completely silent to anything outside.
"There," Kieran said. "Now we can talk without either of us worrying about someone listening."
Bruce folded his arms.
"All right. What do you want?"
Kieran laughed softly. "Always so serious."
"You dragged me into a private room."
"And I invited you to a charity gala."
"Those two things aren't mutually exclusive."
Kieran smiled.
"No, I suppose they aren't."
For a moment he simply studied Bruce before taking a slow sip from the glass in his hand.
"I wanted to do you a favor."
Bruce's expression didn't change.
"The Reach are becoming rather bold, aren't they?"
That got his attention.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
Kieran continued as though they were discussing the weather. "What a curious species. They come to Earth, smile for cameras, shake hands with politicians, sell people brightly colored drinks, and tell everyone how much they want to help."
"How much do you know?"
"Enough."
Bruce stepped closer.
Kieran didn't move.
"I hope you and your friends manage to deal with them sooner rather than later," Kieran continued. "I imagine you have enough problems without adding an alien infiltration to the list."
Bruce's eyes hardened. "How much do you know?"
Kieran smiled.
"More than enough to know that you really shouldn't be spending so much of your energy worrying about me."
Bruce's jaw tightened.
Kieran took another drink.
"After all, you've already got enough on your plate. One of my friends is standing trial, and apparently another has found himself involved in some rather serious trouble."
Bruce stepped forward until Kieran's back nearly touched the wall.
"What do you know about that?"
Kieran's expression remained perfectly calm.
The truth was considerably less impressive than he was making it sound. Nolan knew the Justice League was dealing with some sort of extraterrestrial legal matter, but he didn't remember the details. He couldn't remember exactly what had happened, where the trial was taking place, or even precisely which members of the League were involved. It was another one of those fragments of knowledge buried somewhere in Nolan's fractured memory, an important event reduced to a handful of disconnected facts.
Bruce didn't need to know that.
Kieran smiled.
"I'm surprised you even managed to make it tonight considering you should be somewhere in space dealing with lawyers."
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
Kieran's grin widened.
"How does that work, anyway? Do lawyers have interplanetary licenses? Do they need to pass some sort of cosmic bar exam? Because I know a guy if you need one."
Bruce stared at him.
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
Bruce stepped closer, forcing Kieran to tilt his head upward slightly.
Kieran's smile remained.
"I told you I'm doing you a favor, Bruce. Think about it. I know you're smarter than me."
Bruce said nothing.
"Would a group of individuals powerful enough to manipulate this planet from the shadows really hand Earth over to a different species?"
That stopped Bruce cold.
Kieran watched the realization settle behind his eyes.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course you don't."
Kieran straightened his jacket.
"Enjoy the gala."
He turned toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle.
"Oh, and thank you for the donation."
Bruce frowned.
Kieran opened the door.
Before Bruce could ask what he meant, Kieran had already disappeared back into the ballroom.
The music continued without interruption as Kieran crossed the room, accepting greetings and shaking hands until he reached the stage. An assistant handed him the microphone, and the conversations throughout the ballroom gradually faded.
Kieran smiled out over the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming tonight. I was asked to host this event because several dear colleagues of mine have decided that success means very little if we aren't willing to use some of it to improve the city that gave us everything."
Applause spread through the ballroom.
Kieran waited patiently for it to subside before continuing.
"Four new charitable foundations will officially begin their work tonight, each dedicated to a different need within our community. These organizations will focus on children, education, housing, and opportunities for those who have been overlooked by Gotham for far too long."
He paused, allowing the room to settle.
"And, thanks to one particularly generous guest, we've already received our first major donation."
Kieran looked toward Bruce.
"Wayne Industries has donated one hundred thousand dollars to the Crane Foundation, which will support the development and education of children with learning disabilities."
The ballroom erupted into applause.
Bruce stood among the crowd with a polite smile fixed across his face.
Kieran raised his glass toward him.
Bruce returned the gesture.
Neither man was smiling for the same reason.
—-
A/N: incase you are unfamiliar at this point the justice league and young justice know about the reach and the light.