At this moment, half a dozen police officers kicked the door open and poured in, ordering the vigilante to freeze. Without giving them time to react, he ran away from the girl and jumped through a broken window. The cops dashed in pursuit. The chemistry room was on the first floor, it was easy to jump off. Immediately, the commanding officer ordered his colleagues outside to cordon off the perimeter so he couldn't leave the school. But inside, he could be anywhere...
There was a hunt through the hallways and classrooms, the cops guided by those who were still inside and told them where they had seen the vigilante running. Everyone seemed to indicate he had returned towards the gym. They found a frightened Quentin Mayfair in the janitor's closet. Pursuing their way to the gym, they found Miss Kraczinski who, in the chaos, had gathered a few of the students to safety in the girls' changing room. She told them she had seen a black silhouette rush into the girls' bathroom. The officers gathered around it, opened the door with caution, their guns drawn and ready to fire. No one. But the toilet stalls were all closed. Maybe? They kicked open the first one, tensed with anticipation. Empty. Same for the second one. But when they kicked open the third one, they were most surprised to find a young girl sitting on the toilet, who as soon as she saw them startled in fright, dropped her headphones, and tried frantically to hide her cigarette.
“Okay, guys,” Cass stammered in panic, “I know it's forbidden to smoke in the toilets, but sending the cops for that? Really?”
“Young lady, have you seen a strange man dressed in black pass by?”
“A what? Wait, what are you doing here, anyway? What's going on?”
There was a long, awkward silence between all of them, as the officers stared at the girl in confusion, until one of them sighed as he began to understand the situation: “Don't tell me you've been sitting here smoking all along? How come you haven't heard anything?” But she didn't need to provide an answer, he got it when he heard the thunderous blast beat of metal music coming from her headphones. His own son was into this as well, and he knew that such savage noise he would hardly call music could easily cover the sound of gunfire.
“So what happened?” Cass asked.
“Nothing, don't worry, just stay there and we'll send someone for you.”
They left her and resumed their search, but they had lost the lead: the vigilante was nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, the two gangsters were arrested, and as the police car carried them to the precinct, the two officers on the front seats were debating on the event:
“Have you seen him? So that's this guy they call the New Havenport Batman? He doesn't look so impressive from up close, I was imagining a guy large as a closet! He was almost like a kid!”
“A kid maybe, but rushing on to fight against those two? That took guts, I tell you!”
“I'd rather call it idiocy and a generous dose of dumb luck!”
“Hey, wait, what is that?”
The driver kicked the brakes as hard as he could to avoid colliding with the large SUV that had just stopped in the middle of the road. They barely had time to notice the man coming at them from the side, a seven-foot-tall, white as chalk freak in a surplus military vest, that he drew a submachine gun and sprayed the car with bullets until all of its occupants were turned to bloody Swiss cheese. He didn't blink the whole time. Then he casually returned to the SUV and drove off, and picked his cell phone on the way.
“Boss?” he said. “It's done. Those two will never fail you again.”