Yep, it's another one. This one has also been bugging me from day one, so, instead of putting it off. I decided to write it down. You guys just get the benefit of reading it instead of it being locked away. Hope you enjoy it.
He had been summoned. That's all they ever told him when they requested his presence and it wasn't his place to question The Court. He had learned that lesson early on, but that didn't mean that he would wish they would just be up front with him. He hated being called like some lap dog.
He stilled his thoughts as he approached the solid oak door, preparing himself to meet the master. As the doors opened, the smell of incense was overpowering, but he continued forward. The room was poorly lit. The oil lamps long the walls barely reached the center of the room, casting the figure that sat there in shadow. As he reached the platform that the desk sat on, he knelt. His hand fisted against the ground and his left arm resting on top his bended knee. His head remained bowed to the floor. He was silent as he waited for the master to address him.
"Welcome Talon. Your latest mission went well I hope?"
"Yes, Master."
"Good, good. I have a new task for you. Our newest Talon is nearly ready to join our ranks. I want you to assess him and when you feel he is ready, bring him to us."
"I am yours to command."
"Excellent, then Ruman will brief you on your mission." The Talon stood and bowed to the master. He turned to leave when the master stopped him. "Azrael, this is not a traditional assessment. This Talon's situation is delicate and at no time must the parents be aware that we know of their son."
Azrael nodded. "I understand."
"Very well, go in peace."
Azrael bowed once more and left.
BREAKLINE
Gotham City
Red and blue lights illuminated the night as the Gotham City Police Department surrounded the rundown building. A black, unmarked car pulled up next to a police cruiser. Out stepped a middle-aged man in a suit and tie. He walked up to the current cop in charge. "Anyone leave the building?"
"Nah, we got this place locked up like Fort Knox. No way anyone's getting out of there without going through us." The officer replied.
"Good," The man grabbed a megaphone off the hood of the cruiser and spoke. "This is the GCPD. We have you surrounded. There is no way out. Come out quietly with your hands up."
Just as he finished, gun shots erupted from the second story window. The cops immediately dove for cover as the bullets pierced the vehicles. They returned fire as Commissioner James Gordon waved SWAT forward. There was a few tense moments of silence before the radio sounded the all clear.
Gordon walked through the building, taking in the guns, money and drugs. One of the members of SWAT approached him. "Smugglers, some of them escaped into that hatch." He said pointing to an opened trap door on the far side of the building. "I have a team scouring for anything but those tunnels run for miles. We might never find them."
Gordon nodded and moved to a table containing various packages of drugs. A cop turned to him. "There's marijuana, heroin, and what looks like vertigo."
"There's gotta be a least half a million in drugs here." Harvey Bullock said.
"Uh, Commissioner, you're gonna wanna see this." A voice called from an adjacent hallway. Gordon and Bullock saw another cop standing just outside the last door in the hallway. Gordon glanced in and felt a lump form in his throat. Girls, ranging from ages ten to sixteen, sat huddled together in a corner. Next to them was another child and he seemed to be hand cuffed to the water pipe. Bullock shined a light on his face and he flinched. He was small, skinny, and looked no older than fifteen. He was covered in dirt and his clothes were torn and ragged. It looked as if he had been there for a long time.
"Get some paramedics in here." Gordon ordered and the cop nodded. Gordon stepped toward the boy who attempted to get as far away from him as possible. "It's okay." He said softly not wanting to frighten the boy any more than he already was.
He knelt down about two feet from him. "I'm a cop. My name is Jim Gordon. What's yours?" The boy just stared at him with wide, magnificent blue eyes.
"It's alright. No one's going to hurt you." He reassured. "Can you tell me your name?"
The boy was silent for a moment before he spoke in a whisper so quiet that Gordon had to strain to hear him. "Dick Grayson."
BREAKLINE
Seattle, Washington
The phone rang and Mary Grayson wiped her hands on a towel to answer it. "Hello?" she greeted.
"This is she." She waited for a moment, listening to the voice on the other line, before her eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth in shock. "Are you sure?" she asked as tears came to her eyes.
"Oh my God, thank you! Thank you so much Commissioner Gordon. God bless you!" She hung up and screamed for her husband. "John!"
John Grayson rushed into the room nearly knocking a vase of roses over. "What? What is it?!" he asked gently taking her by the arms.
"They found him John. They found him."
John stared at his wife in disbelief. "A-Are you sure?" he stuttered.
Mary nodded and he pulled her close. "He's coming home." She sobbed. "Our baby's coming home."