See what this is all about

Time to figure out what this message is about. You send a reply indicating that you will be at the diner tonight. As you prepare for departure, you think about the other part of the message: Come alone. It wouldn't be that difficult to recruit some help from someone who could be discrete. Zatanna could probably make herself invisible to anyone watching. Supergirl wouldn't even have to be in the same building to keep an eye on things. Unless they used lead paint. Do bad guys use lead paint? That can't be safe. You keep going over it in your head as you walk down the hallway until you absentmindedly run into someone with an oof.

"Oh sorry," you say reflexively. Snapping out of it, you're standing face to face with Supergirl.

"Head up, Shad!" she says. "Run into Wonder Woman like that and she'll tie you up and drag you back to her room for some 'disciplining'," she says with air quotes.

"Oh. Yeah..." you respond unconvincingly.

"Ok what's wrong?" Kara gives you a quizzical look.

"Nothing. Just--got a lot on my mind." You consider telling her everything, but choose to remain vague instead.

"Need to talk about it?" she probes, now with a more serious look on her face and puts her hands on her hips, her cape fluttering ever so slightly behind her like an image from a motivational poster. "As your official unofficial mentor, you're supposed to tell me if something's up. And something's up."

"No really I'm fine." She's not buying it.

"Really?"

"Really." Maybe I should just tell her.

"Reeeallyy?" She cocks her head a little to the side with this cute little grin on her face, which spreads a smile onto yours. You reach out and wrap your arms around her in a hug.

"Thank you for caring, but really, I'm good."

"Ok. I don't like seeing you worrying your pretty little head though."

"Likewise." You give her a peck on the cheek. "I've gotta run, but we'll catch up later."

"You bet." She gives you a smack in the ass as you turn and head for the transporters.

Collecting your thoughts, you ultimately decide it's best to follow the instructions to not bring backup. It might be a rookie mistake, but you have no idea who this is trying to contact you and what their goal is. If they're able to get an anonymous message to you here, then who knows what their power and reach might be. Bringing someone else along could be helpful, but it could be putting them and you in harm's way and that's not a risk you're willing to take. And so you teleport down to Gotham alone and take a cab to the diner.

The diner is nearly full when you enter, but there are a couple seats available at the counter. You make your way to the open stool all the way at the end so you can see the rest of the place without having to look back and forth. It's very much an older style greasy spoon diner, complete with the middle aged woman in a white apron and hair net behind the counter yelling orders back to the kitchen.

"What can I get for ya, hon?" she greets you.

"Soup of the day and a house salad," you order as instructed.

"You got it." She turns around and shouts into the window behind the counter, "HOT BALLS AND A CHICKEN IN THE HAY!" The hell did I just order?

While you wait you get the lay of the land, trying to spot if anyone is watching you or scoping you out. A suspicious looking man in a trench coat comes in, but he picks up a to go order and is gone in no time at all. Other than that, the rest of the place seems to be filled with regular diners. A few families. Some workers grabbing a bite before heading home. Nobody approaches you and nothing catches your eye. Maybe they didn't get the memo. I did wait an awfully long time before getting around to this...

Your food arrives, and with nothing to do but wait for some unknown contact or signal, you go ahead and eat. It turns out your order was diner-speak for some sort of tiny meatball soup and a chicken salad. And it actually isn't half bad. But you manage to finish your meal and still nobody has contacted you. The bill comes and finally, there it is. At the bottom, in bold handwriting, it says Black sedan outside. Your ride awaits. You turn and look out the window and sure enough there's a black sedan with tinted windows parked in front of the restaurant.

"Who wrote this?" you ask the waitress.

"What's that, hon?" She takes a look. "Couldn't tell ya. Wasn't me though and doesn't look like Ol Jimmy's handwriting." Well, that wasn't helpful. How did they get the drop on me? Must have snuck someone in through the kitchen. You settle your bill and head outside.

Peering into the car, you make eye contact with the man behind the wheel, who looks more like a bodyguard than a driver. He gives you a thumb point indicating you should get in the back seat. Opening the car, it's basically a taxi inside, complete with the divider between the driver and back seat. "Get in," the driver says in a gruff tone.

"So where are we heading?" you ask as you climb in, trying to pry any information at all out of this situation.

"Boss'll explain when we get there." And he gives you nothing. Before you can question him further, he hits a button and a window slides up, separating you from him. Pulling away from the curb, the doors lock, which wouldn't be so alarming if it wasn't accompanied by a loud hiss of some sort of gas being sprayed into the compartment. Shit! You try to pull the lock open, but the knob just breaks off, as does the handle on the door when you try it. Giving the glass a firm elbow does nothing and you're already feeling woozy. You lunge toward the other side of the car as your vision goes all wiggly, then it all fades to black.

Do not worry. We will protect you.

You start to come around. Stirring a little, you find that you are not in the car anymore. Instead you are restrained in a seated position. You can hear a couple voices talking in the distance: a female shouting at a male.

"What do you mean you couldn't? That doesn't make any sense! Get back in there and -- you know what, I'll just do it myself. Give me that!"

Sounds like you're about to have company.