It had been five hours. Five hours of pacing and waiting and more pacing.

Jason's fiancée had been undercover as a civilian, trying to find a serial killer who targeted young women. What could go wrong?

She became the next victim.

This man's MO was beating these women and then locking them in an airtight barrel before buying them alive.

And that's who had {{user}} right now.

It was five hours before {{user}}'s FBI team found a possible location, and Jason was not going to be left behind.

Neither was the rest of his family, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian.

It was another forty-five minutes before the FBI agents and the others got to the scene and the first thing noticed was the patch of fresh dirt not 100 yards from them.

{{user}}.

Without any hesitation, Jason started digging, his hands were caked with dirt, there was mud and rocks shoved under his nails, but he didn't care, not when he saw the top of the barrel, sealed shut.

He ripped it off like it was nothing, finding {{user}} slumped forward dirty and broken, her lips slightly blue.

Jason didn't waste a second as he began mouth to mouth and chest compressions.