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A rickety old, run down club, sitting along the east side of Gotham City's docks. Had once seen it's fill of busy nights. Sheets of plywood placed over windows and doors, did nothing to the value of the building. The graffiti that covered the exterior however, helped bring some form of life to the structure. So much so, that some out of town investors saw potential and purchased it. The building seemed to slowly evolve from some run down shack, into a entertainment business with a more modern flare to it. People of all ages over twenty one could be seen entering and leaving the facility day and night. Some where construction workers, to whereas others were being hired on as wait staff. Inside the building, was the sound of construction taking place at all times of the day. Building engineers could be seen, hovering over a drafting table, while the others on property were constructing rooms from nothing.

Not too far off from the drafting table, was the resemblance of what used to be a bar top. Several metal and cloth covered stools lined up along one side of the bar counter. Sitting upon one of those many stools, was a lonesome woman. She had paperwork laid out before her, placed into specific important document stacks. Jotting down notes on a legal pad, while also speaking into a recording device, the woman sat among a sea of men who were currently at her beckon and call. Long hours were starting to take their toll on the woman, as she worked as hard, if not harder than the construction workers and designer team that rotated in and out of the doors. Scrambling to meet deadlines for the investors, the workload seemed to be getting higher than the productivity rate. Something there would have to change, soon enough. Or this investment would go belly up.

With one hand resting upon a sweat covered glass of ice water, the other drumming idly along the paperwork. A jingle brought the woman out of her thoughts as she diverted her attention over towards her cell phone. Lifting up her hand from the paperwork, she touched the screen of her phone. Scrolling upwards to release the lock, it was a memo. Swiping her fingertip across the screen to see what the calendar looked like. For some reason she found herself looking back on a few dates long past, the recent days. Her eyes falling upon the name L. Luthor appointment at White House.

There was no telling as to how long she had stared at Lex Luthor's name, until she pulled up his contact. Her fingertip hovered over the phone icon verses the text bubble. Would it appear unusual for her to contact him? Or impersonal if she sent him a text? A clattering sound in the background, caught her attention briefly as she glanced away from the cell. Looking up and around the environment setting she was in, she thought nothing of it. Before glancing down at the screen again. Tapping the phone icon as she lifted up her cell to her ear. Waiting for various rings that took place. There were several indeed before the obvious click occurred rerouting Sara to voice mail. Licking her lips lightly as she waited for the beep to commence, as silently practicing how she'd leave a message. "Mr. Luthor, this is Sara Lance, it's been a while since we've spoken and I'm just dropping a line to see how you are fairing. I know you have a full plate with recent activity, from the hero community. And...If you ever need someone to speak with, or need anything. I'm pretty much free..." She knew if there was a phone cord attached to this phone she would have twirled her fingers in and along the cord. She also knew, that she was dragging the short message on longer than necessary. So she did her best to wrap the chat up. "I...I look forwards to hearing back from you sometime. No rush, I'll leave you to your duties, take care." By the time she said her last words, the recording ended as well as the phone call. Holding onto her phone, she slowly lowered the cell downwards. Finding that she was staring at her cell for a long amount of time. Uncertain as to how he would take that call.

Her mind drifted slightly as she thought about the events. That clown, the Joker managing to get away from Deathstroke and Drake. To the fighting that occurred along the steps of Capitol Hill. Sara realized she had not seen, nor heard word from the Secretary of Defense, Slade Wilson as well as from Drake Rayner. Half wondering just where they were. In fact, she started to realize she had not heard from a lot of people as of recent time. Frowning slightly as she moved to take a drink from her water glass. With a lot on her mind, she began to wonder where were a lot of people she had contact with. Did they simply drop off the face of the planet? Or did they too, become missing in action?

Something was beeping loudly from within her purse. Reaching over and unlatching the leather, she removed a device almost as small as a thumbnail drive. That was when she heard Lex Luthor's voice: "Sara this is Luthor. We have a hostage situation in Gotham. Time is of the essence. Let me know if you need transportation. I'll fill you on the situation when you arrive. Luthor out." Looking up and around, seeing she was alone thankfully. She gathered up her things without any hesitance and made her way to the back. Changing into her gear and arming herself, she descended down into the underground garage. Moments later a motorcycle surfaced, a lone helmeted individual reeving the engine took off as soon as she made it to the ground level. Activating the communication device, she contacted Lex Luthor. As she waited for directions, didn't make sense to drive off onto the main road without directions. "Lex Luthor, I am on the road and mobile in Gotham. Presently I am presently located along the east end of Gotham City docks. I need directions to your location."

Sara knew exactly where to go. Funny thing was, she was only fifteen minutes from the location they were at. In a way this was kind of creepy and unsettling. At least from a business point of view. Driving until she did indeed see the flashing red and blues of squad cars. She looked onward from behind her visor as she was directed to where she was needed. Coasting to a stop, she killed the engine and lights. Kicking down the foot stand, she reached up and removed her helmet setting it along the handle bars as she made her way through the crowd of heavily armed men.