"The usual," he said, glancing over towards the general direction of the Bowery. "I'll head your way." He clicked off, and started hoofing it across the rooftops, keeping his eyes peeled for someone following him.
The streets were quiet; not safe, of course not. This was Gotham, and the shitty end of it, where the only time there wasn't violence on the streets it was because it was too cold and they'd moved the violence indoors. This was prime weather for the professional criminals and the amateur assholes, but for once, he didn't make a detour to stop any of it. He'd come back when he wasn't far more interested in the unusual activity on the HYDRA front.
He caught sight of the particular line of shadows - anyone trained by Bruce to hide in the shadows got a good idea of what to look for to find someone doing exactly that - and hauled ass over. For the first time, he stripped off his helmet as he approached, and powered it down. "So is everyone dealing with HYDRA, or is it just me tonight?"