Tim stepped out of the car, dressed in a simple dark gray jacket, having swapped out his usual suit. Today, he didn’t need armor. He didn’t need algorithms. He only needed to see one person clearly.
As he walked into the preschool, he was already a familiar face here. The receptionist immediately smiled at the sight of him, greeting him in a tone that was almost a bit excited:187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡx1lsPi28Ku
“Mr. Drake, right on time again—Finn’s still in the classroom.”
“Thank you,” Tim replied with a faint smile, handing over the pick-up authorization form he’d prepared in advance. He didn’t linger on small talk and made his way toward the classroom with steady steps.
He paused at the door.
Through the small window, he saw his nephew building a towering structure of blocks with several other children. The tower leaned at an angle that defied gravity, yet each child was completely focused, none of them seeming to think it unstable. The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched.
“Mr. Drake, would you mind waiting a moment?”187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ3XSWUWh3n
A gentle yet firm voice spoke from behind him.
Tim turned around.
Nora stood there, holding a few workbooks in one hand and lifting the hem of her long skirt with the other. Her expression was that of someone welcoming an important guest—but also someone who had grown used to dealing with him.
“Let Finn finish his castle, okay?” she said softly.
Tim looked into those green eyes.
He had seen them hundreds of times over the past two weeks—from every angle, every resolution. But seeing them in person, those eyes still looked like fresh buds under sunlight: warm, bright, even making one forget she’d once kicked him square in the face.
Can’t ask about the guns or prep supplies too soon.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYKpO6IERey
Tim knew this conversation needed the right build-up.
He looked at her and gave a small, almost imperceptibly sincere nod.
“Miss Nora, I have a request.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“This Saturday—are you free?”
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Finn must never find out about this.
Tim warned himself as he suppressed a twitch at the corner of his mouth. The kid had been loudly declaring that he would marry his teacher every single day, proudly asserting his claim in front of the entire family. If he found out his uncle had asked his “future wife” out?
The Wayne household would never hear the end of it—and there was a real chance he’d even call Leila, all the way in Europe, sobbing to tattle on him.
Tim had no desire to deal with an outraged Mediterranean phone call.
In truth, Nora’s initial reaction had been exactly what he expected—she frowned, likely thinking she had private matters to attend to that weekend and about to decline.
But Tim didn’t pressure her.
He simply added, in a quiet tone:187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRHydxSPjLX
“I’ve already picked the place. G2 Tactical Training Range, out on the edge of Gotham.”187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFMljwuTHXI
“It’s quiet, fully equipped. I’ll handle the ammo. Everything’s legal. You can try any model you want.”
Nora paused for a moment.
She didn’t ask why it was a shooting range. She didn’t question why Tim had chosen such a specific place. She simply lowered her lashes, as if calculating something quickly. Then she looked up, her voice calm.
“I’m free this Saturday at noon. One o’clock okay?”
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Saturday afternoon came with clear sunlight, and for once, Tim wasn’t wearing a suit.
Instead, he was dressed in dark, casual clothes—loose but clean, understated yet agile. It was what he called his “non-combat combat outfit.”
From the trunk came the thud of heavy metal. He placed the last crate of firearms carefully inside and closed the trunk.
The night before, he’d broken into Jason’s safehouse—well, “broken into” was a stretch. Jason had clearly known and just didn’t care.
After all, the wall of weapons in that place was hard to ignore—everything from handguns to sniper rifles, neatly arranged, even the bullets sorted by type.
Tim had selected a few models that weren’t too lethal but offered strong handling. He didn’t touch anything truly dangerous.
He wasn’t here to fight.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡy2aw6LfeWw
He just wanted to test someone.
Bullets. Ear protection. Goggles. Muffs.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHex0jmW0tc
All accounted for.
He started the engine and drove toward the outskirts of the city. The range he had in mind was one Nightwing used for long-range training—quiet, secluded, well-equipped, and secure from interruptions.
When he pulled up in the jeep, Nora was already there.
She leaned against her car, arms crossed. Her jeans fit cleanly, and over a gray tank top, she wore a button-down with the sleeves rolled just below the shoulders, revealing streamlined collarbones and arms—not soft, but lean and honed, like a fighter.
When she saw him step out, her eyes flicked to the trunk.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKBl8pR0KhQ
She didn’t say much. Just raised a brow with a smirk.
“You’re serious.”
Tim gave a small smile and shut the door.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLEONTImTVd
“I told you. You can try every model.”
Nora walked toward the trunk, Tim following close behind, making mental notes with each step:187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡp7FuNJQr1X
Steady gait. Low center of gravity. Excellent muscle control—187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrFocGPdvtt
This woman’s combat instincts weren’t casual.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7Pe0OzNV1W
They weren’t from a hobby.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhzYLL6Bnhj
This wasn’t just target shooting.
He didn’t know if he’d get the answers he wanted today.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBqt3KR2kUJ
But one thing he knew for sure—
She was not just a preschool teacher.
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Nora bent down and opened the first gun case. The light reflected off the metal parts, making her green eyes seem lit from within.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeBvWFdvRbq
She didn’t make a sound, but she clearly inhaled — like a connoisseur catching a familiar scent, or a book lover opening a beloved old volume.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZctLiTZ1Tc
Tim watched from the side, like he was observing some unknown creature.
She carefully lifted a semi-automatic pistol from within, handling it like an antique as she examined the mechanisms and details.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPFkeFn8yVm
Tim suddenly felt a bit relieved that he hadn’t brought Jason along.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHjH8KbVwbq
Not because he needed backup — but because if those two started talking gunpowder, he was afraid he’d become a muted background character.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJoieuqEWiE
He couldn’t help picturing Nora and Jason at a gun show, exchanging insights and pointing at specific guns to discuss recoil feedback.
His facial muscles twitched slightly at the thought.
“This one… M1911?” Nora asked while skillfully racking the slide, emptying the magazine, and checking the chamber. It was clear this wasn’t her first time handling one.
“Not a commercial model — custom internal mechanism, tuned recoil,” Tim replied simply.
She nodded, her tone more serious than anyone going on a “date” should be. “Where’d you get it?”
“From a friend’s collection.”187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡixEDwFdTSS
Tim didn’t mention names. “Friend” was putting it mildly — that friend had once died, then returned, fully armed.
Nora didn’t press further. She moved on to the second case — a short-barrel shotgun.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC59WWmnEgO
Her hands instinctively ran across the grip and safety, like she was confirming some familiar sensation.
That made Tim’s brow tighten.
His eyes drifted back to her — clean jeans, plain tank top, no makeup, no earrings, no nail polish.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEO1X7ACjnK
Not even a necklace or bracelet.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnbMjGCerp3
None of the things a woman might wear for a “date.”187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQEd9nMVjPN
No intention of adorning herself at all.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmMhcj529ZN
Clean. Unadorned. Like someone always ready to pack up and vanish from the world.
What is she guarding against? Or… running from?
He couldn’t help but ask, “You don’t wear accessories?”
Nora’s gaze never left the firearms on the table.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFCaIG9osPr
Her pale green eyes landed on the hammer, as if checking some detail — or maybe reliving a familiar procedure.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmgOqmPkmU9
Her tone was as calm as if she were talking about lunch:187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfatef7QCGz
“I don’t have many. Kids tend to grab them.”
Her fingers gently circled the safety as she pulled the weapon a little closer to herself — clearly not intending to elaborate.
Tim nodded. The answer made logical sense — he’d said similar things himself.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡahu4AGK9RS
Kids often leap at you without warning and grab whatever they can — necklaces, earrings, even buttons.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4qx4rgWzbu
Still, a faint sense of dissonance rose inside him.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡg53dLwvNhR
Like a tiny needle poking at his thoughts.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHaVRT7d6ao
The answer made sense… but didn’t feel whole.
Nora’s fingertips moved across the guns, each one like an old friend.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMsNUKpxtvK
She wasn’t distracted by the dazzling variety — instead, she picked out a few with balanced weight and clean construction.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFp2vOeMLQg
She placed them on the designated test area with practiced ease.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtVJXCFiZFl
Even Tim had to nod in quiet approval.
He stood nearby, hands in his jacket pockets, silently observing the order and rhythm of her selections.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUJIVV6fyjZ
Her manner didn’t resemble someone handling a gun for the first time — nor did it seem like casual interest.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcRBWurvhmg
She was too calm.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnstb9GZcnA
Too natural.
Tim felt a flicker of doubt swirl in his mind:187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmyPESMdoIF
Was this familiarity… or was it a rookie hiding their inexperience too well?187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3ZWIn4IXfZ
He couldn’t tell.
He watched her gear up, slipping on a bulletproof vest.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2W4MFDSKMo
Then she began loading the magazines — her movements swift and clean.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtdS1QsQSy0
From the way she aligned the bullets to the angle of the barrel,187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5xpIOviGG6
even the order in which her wrist applied pressure — everything was seamless.
She disengaged the safety and chambered a round.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNGAy8InREk
The whole process was silent and smooth, the only sound being the soft clink of metal against metal echoing in the air.
She stood in the firing lane, feet shoulder-width apart, grounded firmly.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt9hbZfVdGX
Her stance looked like it had stepped right out of a textbook.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA2SrXQMquF
She lowered her knees, evenly distributing her weight across her feet.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiB6FaP1Ccn
Her spine straight, arms naturally extended.
There was nothing flashy or showy about her form — but it radiated a quiet pressure that dared you not to underestimate her.
In that moment, Tim almost didn’t recognize her.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdYp2TeNldX
This wasn’t the woman who painted stars and stacked blocks with kids in kindergarten.
Her gaze had changed — it now held a sharp focus, almost aggressive in its intensity.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8cBrTJxvEx
Those green eyes were like blades, locked onto the target, her whole posture like a crouched panther, poised to strike.
The air split open.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB5s1bZhQwN
A single shot rang out, crisp and sharp.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqsGShWgmTY
The recoil rippled from the muzzle,187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYzB2ybvkFa
and for a moment, the room seemed to fall into perfect silence.
Tim blinked, catching the sight of a single, deep black bullet hole on the target — nearly dead center.187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡN90LZeimhc
He wasn’t sure whether to be impressed…187Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuKBBOORFGI
or start rewriting her threat assessment file.
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and then Add to home screen.