Hah! I was able to recover a lot of this. the first part is missing so I'll recap:
The Gargoyles, Elisa Maza, and Morbius are after Hugo Strange, the man who had Elisa committed to Arkhan Asylum. They suspect (correctly) that Strange is working for Lex Luthor. What they don't suspect is that Strangs is also working for Demona, who has her own LexCorp project gpoing. It is called the Zoo, and is conduction genetic experiments. Demona has provided Strange with several bodyguards, Anthony Romulus and four more men with the same genetic form of lycanthropy. He has also given him Nightshade as a companion. She has perfected a pheromone that allows her to control the werewolves.
The gargoyles confront strange, the wolves go all wolfy, Nightshade shoots Goliath several times in the chest, Elisa stops her by shooting her several times, and here we go…
In the meanwhile, Broadway had slammed into two of the other werewolves with all of his considerable weight. Angela slashed one with her talons as she swooped past. She landed and turned to see the bloody gashes on its face close.
"Be careful!" she said. "They heal quickly."
"Got it," Broadway said. He was grappling with one of the two he had toppled and seemed to be getting the better of him.
The werewolf had hurt sprang at her, claws extended. She caught its wrists and stopped it. Out of her eye, she saw a third ready to spring but was unable to disengage, then Morbius dropped onto the creature's back, throwing a lean arm around its throat.
"Hah!" Broadway said as he hurled his monster against the parked car. "At least we're stronger than them."
"Speak for yourself," Morbius shouted as he clung desperately to his opponent's back.
A little up the street, Strange knelt by Nightshade and applied pressure to her wounds.
"She needs an ambulance," he said.
"Deal with it, Doctor," Elisa said turning to draw a bead on Romulus. Unfortunately the monster's savage struggle made it impossible to shoot him without the risk of hitting Goliath.
Romulus sank his fangs into the gargoyle's shoulder. Goliath roared with pain and managed to pull free but he was too weakened to resist as Romulus slashed his claws across his belly. Goliath went to his knees and the werewolf raised his muzzle to howl in triumph.
Before Romulus could finish the job, Elisa shot him through the chest. He turned toward her, growling but not showing any evidence of being injured. He stalked toward her as she fired one shot after another, drawing him away from Goliath. After a moment the hammer fell with only a click. Elisa shifted her grip and, holding her pistol like a club, began to back away.
With an expression almost like a grin, Romulus sprang.
No sooner had Broadway thrown one of his assailants aside than the second one tackled him from behind. It tried to bite his neck, but he caught it around its own neck with his powerful tail and pulled it loose.
"These guys won't stay down," he said.
"Then we should try something different," Angela said. She placed a foot against her opponent's chest, then raced to a nearby building and began to climb, her powerful talons digging into the bricks. The werewolf let out a snarl of rage and followed.
"I like it!" Broadway said. Before he could follow suit, though, both of his werewolves tackled him to the street.
The werewolf fighting Morbius finally got hold of him and flung him off. The living vampire flipped in mid-air and landed lightly on his feet.
"Stupid monster," he hissed. "You may be stronger but I am quicker than you."
The werewolf didn't respond, except to spring at him. Morbius, true to his word, moved even faster, springing out of the way. As he had planned, the werewolf's lunge caused it to slam, headfirst into the fireplug he had been standing in front of, stunning it.
The living vampire pounced on the monster form behind, drawing it's head back to expose its throat and baring his fangs. Then he hesitated.
"No," he whispered. "I could kill you, but only by becoming what I despise."
Unfortunately, the hesitation was enough for the wolf-thing to break free. With a powerful slash it stunned him, then opened its jaws to crush his skull.
As the werewolf sprang, Elisa swung her pistol with all her strength. She caught Romulus across the jaw, stunning him. the werewolf shook off the impact almost instantly and the next instant Elisa found herself slammed to the pavement with the monster on top of her. A fragment of a prayer her mother had taught her ran through her mind as the slavering jaws opened to engulf her face, then a huge, taloned hand closed on the werewolf's muzzle and another grasped the side of its head. She heard a familiar voice roar with strain and fury; grey arms tensed with effort, and there was a terrible cracking as the werewolf's head was twisted a hundred and eighty degrees.
The next moment, the werewolf's weight was rolled off of her and she saw Goliath bending over her, his own blood streaming down his chest.
"Elisa," the gargoyle said. "Are you alright?"
"Yes," she said, staring in horror at his wounds.
"It is good," he said, then his eyes closed and his body slumped.
Morbius stared at his death as the werewolf towered over him, jaws wide.
"No!" he hissed and his eyes blazed like yellow lanterns. The monster stopped, transfixed by his hypnotic gaze.
Morbius rose, feeling his control over the creature.
"Revert," he said. To his amazement, the werewolf seemed to dwindle, its fur vanishing before his eyes until only a dazed looking human remained.
"Sleep," he said.
Broadway was starting to get worried. He was more than a match for either of the werewolves, but together they were too much. If he could get away from them for a few seconds, he could get high enough to glide--that would change everything--but they weren't giving him any respite at all.
He was grappling with one while the other circles him, trying to attack from behind. Then something plummeted from the sky and landed on the werewolf. It was another werewolf, the impact was apparently more damage than even the formidable healing factor of these monsters could withstand. Glancing up he saw Angela flying far overhead and understood what had happened. She dove like a shot and landed by his side. In a moment they were holding the remaining werewolf helpless.
"Let me," Morbius said, his eyes blazing. "I've found a simple way to subdue these beasts."
When he had reverted the werewolf to human and put him to sleep, Morbius glanced toward where Elisa and Goliath had waged their struggle. His eyes widened in shock.
"Father?" Angela said, following his glance.
"Oh no!" Broadway said.
Hugo Strange had done his best to save his confederate, not that it had done any good. Nightshade had breathed her last and he had spent enough time caring for her that now he feared he had lost his chance to escape. He started to rise, only to find himself staring down the barrel of a 9 mm pistol in the hands of Elisa Maza. The woman had good reason to hate him after all he had done but she also had a strong moral compass. If he could play on that he might still get away.
"Detective Maza--" he began.
"Shut up," she said in a voice so cold he knew it covered terrible pain. "The only reason I haven't shot you is because you're a doctor."
"Keep him alive," she said, pointing at the fallen Goliath. "If you can do that until sunrise, I won't shoot you. If not…"
Strange swallowed nervously.
"I'll do my best."
"No answer," Amanda said, lowering her cell. "I don't understand. "First he misses the rendezvous, and not I can't reach him. Something must have happened."
"Great," Duncan MacLeod said. Mac was sitting crosslegged on a cushion in the common area of Amanda's apartment in Metropolis. The third person in the room, the mysterious woman known as Talia was sitting nearby, tied to a wicker chair. They'd tried leaving her in a room by herself gagged and blindfolded but she'd shown a distressing ability to slip free of her bonds.
"If you release me now, you may yet live," Talia said. "I have no desire to see you die, but if my father learns of this, nothing will save you."
"It's not like I wanted to kidnap you," Amanda said, fingering the torc around her neck. "If I hadn't these people would have blown my head off."
"It's not like we were going to let them keep you," Mac added. "We'd have gotten you out safely."
"How?" Talia asked.
"We'd have come up with something."
Amanda dialed again. "Come on, Owen," she muttered under her breath. "Pick up."
Bruce Wayne stared at the woman across the table from him. Natasha Romanov was not what he had been expecting from a Stark Industries executive. Not only was she beautiful, she was one of the most intelligent, fascinating women he had ever met and he was finding himself feeling things he hadn't in a very long time.
Lunch had turned into a walk around the estate and then to dinner, and now they were sitting in a dim parlor in Wayne Manor with a fire set against the chill of the thunderstorm outside. The conversation that had started as business, then turned to common interests, had become very personal. He knew he was neglecting important matters that Batman should be attending to, but somehow that all seemed far away at the moment.
"I grew up in an orphanage in the Soviet Union," Natasha said with a sad smile. "As you might imagine, it was not the happiest of childhoods."
"I didn't know," he replied. "I lost my parents too, when I was nine."
"It is good that you had them for a while," she said. "I never knew mine."
"I was there when they were killed."
"Boishe moi!" Natasha whispered. "What happened?"
"They… it was a mugging… outside the movie theater…" Bruce paused, finding it difficult to speak. This wasn't like him but it was good to share with someone who understood.
Natasha didn't speak, just moved closer and held him. After a few moments of silence their lips met and vulnerability became aching need.
Alfred, passing in the hall, discretely shut the door to the room and moved on with a wry smile on his lips.
"This is… it's unacceptable," Father said. "The elderly doctor was pacing in the cave that served as a conference chamber for this subterranean community. The room had hosted many meetings but never a gathering like this. at one end of the table sat the newcomer, Callisto and her new foundling, Caliban. She had proven herself loyal to the community, but her idea of expanding--using their limited resources to care for a greater number of outcasts--he worried that such a thing was not possible.
Then there were the strangers, the two woman--one a policewoman no less--and the man who looked like an extra from an old John Wayne movie with his breechcloth, leggings and wolf headdress… entirely too many people were learning about their community. Secrecy was their only defense against the world above.
"Father, please relax," Vincent said. "These are good people and I am certain we can trust them."
"Fine!" he snapped. "But what are these good people doing here? And who else is coming?"
"I've got to agree with Father," Callisto said. "Their kind doesn't belong down here."
"There is nothing to be gained by resentment," Vincent said. "Let us listen to what they have to say."
"I fear it is not good," Red Wolf said. "We came here to find a man--a monster--called Sabertooth. I found his tracks nearby so he has come very close to this place before."
"Do you think he'll be back?" Callisto asked.
"Count on it," Jean deWolfe said.
The Chameleon sat in his workshop by himself. The place was the fourth floor office in an old theatrical warehouse. It was connected by catwalks to other sections of the building and was ideal for his and his allies' purposes.
Mysterio was out, testing some new illusions. Mason was away too, working on some assignment that their new employer, the Big Man, had given him. That left him alone--except for their prisoner of course. He'd wanted to put a bullet in the Creeper's head as soon as Mysterio had captured him, but his partners wanted to stage a death that was more flamboyant.
That was the problem working with theater people.
He was startled by a knock on the office door. It couldn't be one of his partners, but who else would know he was there? Picking up a pistol he moved to the door.
"Who is it?"
"Owen Burnett," a voice said. "Mr. Xanatos would like to retain your services again."
"Come in," Chameleon said, pointing the gun, just in case.
The door burst open and Owen, his hands bound behind him, came tumbling in as if shoved. Chameleon dodged out of the way and caught a glimpse of a faceless man in a hat and trenchcoat moving through the door.