Two – Dust

Five days in and they'd made little progress. Both Dick and Jessie had bought some of the softer drugs like Ecstasy from the barman at the Vox and had at least become "faces" known to the dealers. Andrews seemed pleased at least, and had given them the green light to move on to the next phase of the operation.

Dick pulled on the criminally tight jeans he had bought for this. The first night at the Vox had told him two things. The first was that he had never been that young and the second was that his wardrobe needed an overhaul.

"Mmm…work it, boy wonder!"

Dick turned to his laptop. Barbara's smiling face filled the screen. He wondered how long she'd been there.

"Partying again?" She teased. "Any more of this and you'll knock Bruce off the top of the playboy lists."

"I'd rather be Wing-ing it." He said as he pulled out of couple of tight T's he'd bought along with the jeans. "I hope this operation is over soon."

He caught the frown she gave him. "Finally regretting becoming a cop?"

"No." And he wasn't surprised to find that was the truth. "It's just kind of different. It's not the kind of night work I'm used too." He held up the T's as he spoke, eyeing the colours. "It's good having a partner though. Jessie's a good cop." He flashed Babs a grin. "Maybe Nightwing should get a sidekick."

Dick finally decided to go with the blue T and put it on. He was completely unaware of the silence that met his words. He turned to the monitor as he smoothed the T over his lean muscles. If she wanted a show, he'd at least put in some effort.

"The red's better." There was a hint of tension in her voice and he frowned.

But a sharp knocking on the door stopped him from asking her what was wrong.

"That'll be Jessie." He told her.

Babs blinked out.

Dick answered the door. Jessie grinned at him. She was wearing the tiniest dress he ever seen, but her hair was less groomed than it usually was and she'd applied her make-up in a way that gave her eyes a faintly hollow look, like she was hungering for something.

She caught him looking. "Think it's OK?"

He let her in. "They'll go for it."

"I hope. If Jimmy Finch really does supply the barman, he'll be a hard man to convince." She looked around. "Nice place."

"It's OK."

"Kind of wish we were wired."

Dick shook his head. "Andrews is right. It's too risky."

"Risky for who? Not sure I trust him to have that back-up he promised to have outside if we needed it though."

Dick didn't either, but since he hadn't ever needed back-up, it hadn't bothered him.

"We'll be OK. I doubt we'll meet Jimmy tonight. It'll probably take another day or so."

"No offence, but I hope not. I'm beginning to hate that nightclub." She picked up a photo, the one of him and Bruce in Greece when Dick was 11. "This your dad?"

"Yeah. No!"

She looked questioningly at him.

"That's Bruce. He raised me." Dick laughed and quickly changed the subject. "We'd better be going." He said as he snagged the red T. "Just need to change my shirt."

"Keep it on. That colour's great on you." She told him. "The red won't look half so good."

----

The music was pounding, bass so deep he could feel the vibrations inside him. Dick winced. If he wasn't deafened by the end of the night, it would be a miracle. Bruce had trained his hearing years ago, and he suspected a few nights here might undo years of work.

Jessie was saying something, but hearing her was out of the question. He read her lips. Then nodded.

Dick felt a thrum of excitement as they pushed their way through the ravers to the bar. He saw Jessie hunch over, hugging herself, like her stomach was cramping.

Dick caught the barman's eye. "Two beers." He said, handing over a folded note.

The barman pulled the beers and went to get the change. Another barman brought Dick's change back on a plate. The dollar bill was also folded.

Jessie snatched at the dollar like she was desperate. Dick hid a smile. She was quite an actress.

Time for act two!

Jessie's face fell when she opened the dollar. Dick caught a glimpse of the baggie of white powder inside it. Then she began yelling at Dick. Even this close, close enough to feel the heat of her skin against his own, he couldn't hear her.

Dick summoned the barman again.

"Got anything…colourful?" Jessie yelled out, holding out a crumpled twenty.

"Not for that."

She turned pleading eyes at Dick. "Richie, please?"

Dick swallowed some of his beer and dashed the dollar not from her fingers. "That's all you're getting."

Jessie scooped it, and the little plastic baggie that peeped out when it fell, up and hugged it to her chest. "I need more."

Dick just swigged at his beer, ignoring her.

She turned desperately to the barman. "Look, you know me. My cousin owes me some money. You'll get it."

Dick laughed cruelly and the barmen threw him a grin.

"I'll pay double. When I get the money." She leaned over closer to the barman. "Please. Hurts."

The barman leered down at her breasts.

She shifted under the gaze. "I could work." It was a whisper lost to the music.

The barman chuckled.

"I've sampled the merchandise." Dick sneered. "Wouldn't pay for that." He warned the barman. "Real disappointing."

"I-I work in a high school." Jessie told him. "Lots of kids. I could sell."

"Sure you could, honey." He spat. "Sell it right up your nose."

Jessie trembled, eyes filling with tears. With a sob, she hurried off to the toilets.

"Guess she won't be needing this." Dick said, and took a long draught of Jessie's beer.

The barman chuckled. "Where'd you meet that mess?"

"At work."

Dick noticed that the barman looked interested. "You work in school too?"

"I'm one of the youth counsellors."

"Which school?"

"Milvern." He replied, and cast silent hope that Andrews had sorted his cover out.

The barman chuckled. "Guess you get to lecture the kids about the evils of drugs."

Dick shrugged. "Sometimes." He forced himself to finished Jessie's pint.

"Ain't that a conflict of interest? Do as I say, not do as I do, huh?"

Dick frowned. "I don't."

"No?"

Dick shook his head.

"Smart boy."

He held out his hand. "Richie. Richie Brown."

The barman's grip was firm. "David."

Dick ordered another beer. His stomach protested the last two, but it was an excuse to keep talking to the barman.

David brought him his beer. "You know, your friend's right. There's money to be made at school."

"That's not what my bank account says."

David laughed. "You should put a little colour in your work." He told him. "Spread it about."

Dick nursed his beer. "I could use some extra cash…"

---

Jessie watched Dick and the barmen laughing together. She tried not to let the unkind comments bother her. It was part of the job.

She began to push through the crowds to get to the door. Outside, she got out a cigarette and lit it.

She touched her hairclip.

---

In the car across the street, Andrews watched the young woman readjust the clip in her hair.

He smiled. "He's in."

---

It was nearly dawn when Dick finally left the nightclub. He had waited for David to close up, as the barman had asked.

When David was finally finished, he led Dick out the back door of the club and then to a pick-up. They both got in and David drove off.

Dick could only silently hope that they were being followed. And if they were, that they were being discretely followed.

It didn't take long from them to reach their destination. David pulled up in the underground parking area of a rundown apartment block. A man Dick instantly recognised as Jimmy Finch was sitting in a car opposite.

They all got out.

"Who's this?" Jimmy demanded as soon as he saw Dick.

"Richie. Works at Milvern High." David told him. "I know you wanted to move into some schools, so I-"

"You ask me first before bringing anyone in!" He snapped. "Kid could be anyone."

"Look, I know him."

"How well?"

David never answered. His eyes fixed on something behind Jimmy. His face went white.

A car rolled to a stop behind David's pick-up and Jimmy's Peugeot, effectively blocking them in.

Dick's body fell unthinkingly into a ready stance.

Jimmy turned. He looked as sickly as David.

Several heavily armed men exited the car. Then another man.

"Jimmy, I warned you." The man's voice was light.

"I don't want any trouble, Mr Lines."

Lines… Evie's words echoed in Dick's ears. She hadn't been asking for Blue, she had been trying to warn him. What had she meant? Who was this man?

"I own Blue, Jimmy." Lines said. "Only I get to deal it. I warned you."

"Look, take the money, OK?" Jimmy gestured to his car. "Take the Blue. It's all in the truck."

Lines nodded at one of his heavies, who went to Jimmy's car, smashed the window to get the keys and then went to the trunk. He opened it and liberated two large packets of Blue, ready for cutting, and a padded envelope full of cash.

Dick was itching to move, to put them all down. But he needed information and for that, he had to keep still.

"It's not enough." Lines told him. "See, I have the monopoly on Blue. I wanna keep it that way. Now when you started dealing with me, I warned you not to double cross me. Then I learn you're cooking up your own…"

Jimmy's voice trembled. "I swear to you, Mr Lines, I-"

One of the heavies back handed him across the mouth.

"I warned you." The man reached into his jacket.

Jimmy's legs gave out. "I'm sorry."

"I know you are." He pulled out a gun.

Dick reacted. He hit Lines swiftly, knocking the gun clean away. Then everything went to Hell.

Dick quickly put down another two of the heavies, but the next was proving more of a challenge. Bullets flew from the automatics, the sound echoing off the walls, and keeping out of their way was proving difficult.

Jimmy had run the moment Dick had intervened and had been quickly cut down. David had followed Dick's example and flung himself at one of the armed men. More from sheer blind luck than skill, David had managed to wrest the rifle from his opponent and was spraying bullets everywhere.

Dick could hear sirens coming closer. Andrews had followed him and was sending in the cavalry.

One of the men jerked as David shot him, the bullets ripping into him and into the packets of drugs he held. Blue coloured powdered methamphetamine clouded up, as thick as a dust storm.

Don't breathe, don't breathe… Dick kept up the chant as he twisted in the fight until he put the man out.

Where was Lines?

He couldn't see. His eyes watered. He was fighting blind.

He wasn't fighting anyone at all.

He heard wheels screech and the corner of the car clipped him as it past. He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from his lungs.

He gasped.

TBC...