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Croc slammed the back door to the van he'd been given. Another bomb underneath the old public library near Crime Alley. He didn't know who was the mastermind behind the bomb scheme, and he didn't really care. He was getting paid, and that was all that mattered to him. They could keep their reasons. Frankly this all struck Croc as one of Joker's anarchy trips.

Croc ran his tongue across his rows of razor sharp teeth. He was getting used to his recent mutation, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying the new powers that came with it. He was pretty hard to take down now and that was very useful.

Croc looked into the back of the van through the window. He had two more bombs, but no locations to plant them at yet. He'd have to wait for a phone call. Mad Hatter had been passing the locations on to him, but Croc doubted that it was just Hatter calling the shots. Bombs weren't his style.

Croc checked his watch and got into the van. He started it up and pulled away from the Library. Once he was only three blocks away, the old library exploded. Croc stopped the van and looked back.

"Hrm... that's all wrong. I set that thing to go off in an hour. That was barely fifteen minutes." Croc said to himself, "This job stinks. It's like someone wants the city to burn."

Croc sped off and away from the scene. A crocodile man speeding away from a bomb scene doesn't go unnoticed.

Croc spotted Huntress in his rear-view. She was out during the day. She was out of her element. All of Gotham's heroes worked at night... mostly. This was a change of pace. Croc found it almost refreshing.

He used his right hand to open a box sitting in the seat beside him. He drew a grenade from it and grinned. He popped the pin out and bashed the window out with his elbow. He counted to three and then dropped the grenade out the window.

The Mad Hatter was deep in thought about all this. He didn't explosions or bombs. He preferred to control people via their brains, not through fear. Unfortunately he was outnumbered in that school of thought. If all this meant a better city for them, then he would go along with it, but he wouldn't plant the bombs himself. So they put Croc under his control since he was pretty clueless on his own.

Hatter left his bedroom where he'd been thinking and went into the main chamber of his new hideout. It was festooned in the normal fashion of Alice in Wonderland themed decor, and a large dining table set for a tea party. Hatter put a kettle on in the kitchen and looked over the day's paper. Gotham was gripped in fear. Everything was going smoothly.

Mary Dahl would have expected to wake up to the serene smell of fresh morning air when she returned to Gotham-though, once she arrived from her current runaway from Arkham she immediatly had not the slightest idea why she expected that. The smell of smoke filled the air-but not smoke you inhaled from the addictive smell of someone else's cigarette nor was it that of a fire-it smelled....like a bomb. Or, perhaps, more then one bomb. She couldn't be certaint. Babydoll could only expect that it was a work of some devious criminal but at this point she hadn't cared who and without a shadow of a doubt she hadn't known what had drawned her back to freedom and out of Arkham anyhow.

With a small crack of her back, Babydoll contiuned marching down the alleyways of the vermin-filled Gotham in an attempt to go unnoticed and unseen by other eyes of the citizens aswell as villians. The morning sun's light was slightly blinding. She had been behind bars so long it was difficult to adapt to the sudden change in lighting-but she had decided she would adapt eventually. Babydoll stepped carefully over a heap of trash-large eyes shifting left and right as leaned agaisnt the wall of an apartment next to the filthy alleyway. She pushed a sun-kissed curling bang out of her forehead-examining the streets.

Luckily, no one noticed her because of their small stature. No one even asked if she was lost but honestly she expected that. The citizens were busy-not to mention those bombs. They all seemed terrified and worried about those bombs. Bombs weren't terrifying as long as they hadn't hit you. She let out a small sigh, a stuffed toy in her right arm-hopefully, distracting attention that she was indeed Mary Dahl, Babydoll-a crazed villian who tried to murder Gotham including herself and of course the Croc-but they all seemed distracted by the bombs so she need not worry.

She tugged at her piggytails, walking on amongst the streets with her eyes and heart weary from the devastating wake of none other then that merciless morning. Maybe, she wasn't a morning person. Or maybe, she was really a anything person. She had no idea what she was going to do next-she didn't know anyone anymore...not anymore. She was alone in the streets of Gotham. A crazed, villianess, vengeful women cleverly diguised trapped in the petite body of a small and lost girl.

The Huntress wanted to ignore the scene and continue chasing Croc, but even she couldn't be so heartless. "Crap..." she muttered as she veered to the side of the road. Her motorcycle skid to a stop, and the family seemed to cry for help with their eyes. Only one person was really injured, and that was the driver. He seemed to have a broken arm. Nothing beyond that since they appeared to be on a family trip, and some luggage and pillows cushioned their crash. It was their lucky day.

She clutched a broken door and yanked at it, and after a few more tries, the crunched car door gave in and swung open. Huntress reached in and pulled the children out first. They were covered in minor scrapes and bruises. Next was the wife who seemed to be in near-perfect condition. Finally, she had to help out the husband. It wasn't too hard dragging him out, but due to the face that he had a broken arm, he was a little grouchy.

The ambulance was there in a flash. They had to be, considering it was Gotham City. With these bombings continuing, Helena had a strong feeling that the ambulance attendance would start running real low, and the hospitals would practically be overwhelmed.

As she pulled away from the scene, a cat-like shadow skid across a near-by rooftop. It had to be... but another familiar-looking "child" was striding down the streets "harmlessly." Catwoman and Babydoll. Croc was far out of her reach now, and she had another choice to make.

Catwoman was a thief, but Helena wouldn't have really considered her to be dangerous. Babydoll, on the other hand, could pull out her doll anytime and open fire. Besides, she had to admit- she liked Catwoman. The Doll, it was then.

Helena aimed her grapple to a building on the other side of the street and shot herself up. It would have felt freeing to be up there on a nice, cool night, but with so many people staring at her on a burning hot day, there was nothing too thrilling about being up there. She would be a lot easier to spot if she wasn't careful.

With a slow and steady step, the Huntress kept a careful eye on her prey and followed her from above.

The Huntress had ducked behind the rooftop's ledge just as Babydoll turned her head. The smaller woman knew she was being watched. It was all over her face and her body language. Helena just had to make sure that the girl never learned she was being watched by whom.

The silent chase continued on for a few more blocks, but the Huntress was far from losing her concentration. Babydoll was going somewhere... Supposedly. If the aimless wandering continued on for too long, the Huntress wouldn't stick around to watch it.