Territory

By

AJ

Part 2

Batman went back to the scene where Nightwing and he took down the gunrunners and where his former partner had been shot. He called Commissioner Gordon to confirm they had collected both the dead man and the rest of the gunrunners and their contacts. He arrived at the scene to find Commissioner Gordon waiting for him and a few officers also searching the scene for clues.

"We collected the five from Gotham, but six of the seven from Bludhaven, they're dead, including the man we found on the ground. We had to call the coroner's office and have them send a couple more meat wagons. Why didn't you make certain the shooter was caught?" Commissioner Gordon asked. "That's not like you to leave during an active crime scene, Batman."

"Nightwing was shot in the chest," Batman confessed, trying not to betray the worry that he still felt. "I had to get him medical attention."

"Nightwing? I've seen him in Gotham a several times."

Batman stated. "You saw him more than that. You saw him grow into a fine man." Was all Batman would say on the subject. Batman gave a slight smirk when he sensed the older man's eyes grow wide at realizing just who Nightwing was . . . and is now. "I need to check something across the street. I want to talk to the remaining man from Bludhaven first."

"He's not in very good shape," Commissioner Gordon stated. "He should be sent to the hospital. He's lucky that the bullet only pierced a lung. I'll let you talk to him for five minutes then we're going to have to send him to the hospital for treatment."

Batman moved over to the gurney where the paramedics were working to prevent the one remaining man from Bludhaven from bleeding out. They were giving him oxygen and his wound had been packed.

"Who sent you to Gotham? " Batman asked.

"Go to hell," the man spat out.

"The man who shot you, who sent him?"

The man on the gurney glared at Batman, which was new to the dark crusader of the night.

'Most common thugs are afraid of me,' Batman thought. 'This man has no fear of me.' He had to try a different tactic. "Should I give you over to Nightwing, will that loosen your tongue?"

The mention of Nightwing caused the man's eyes to grow wide then to narrow.

"That costumed creep was shot . . . like the rest of us . . ." the man started to cough and spots of blood appeared on his lips.

"You're bleeding internally," Batman stated. "I don't care whether you live or die. If you know something, you better come clean."

"We've only just begun," the man stated. "There's more where we came from. And no costumed creep is going to stop us."

"All right, that's enough. We better take him."

Batman allowed the paramedics to load the man on the ambulance. There was more here than what he could figure out in just a few minutes. He didn't want to admit he needed Nightwng's help on this one, but he wasn't about to get it. This was bigger than the both of them. For now, he had other things on his mind, such as trying to find out whom it was that shot Nightwing. And he knew where he might find clues to determine that information. Batman reached the abandoned building facing the parking garage where he spotted the glint on metal. He searched the floor and found the possible spot where the shooter knelt. Not a trace of evidence could be found. There were no shell casings. The shooter was a professional. Even the dust in the area had been cleaned to prevent him finding a single footprint.

'The shooter knew where the gunrunners would be and must have come here ahead of everyone else. It might have been as much as 24 hours. It would give the shooter time to clean the floor area. Then something else occurred to him that he had not thought of before.

'This could have been a trap . . . or a warning. Nightwing must be getting close to discovering who is responsible for those deaths. Why go to all the trouble of setting up a trap and killing those men? And all of them were from Bludhaven. The shooter was sent to guarantee if any of them were caught they wouldn't talk . . . And Nightwing . . . he was just an opportunity the shooter could not resist.'

There was no way Batman was going to trace the shooter at this point. There wasn't a shred of evidence to point to whom that person could be.

' . . . Not without going into Bludhaven, Nightwing's . . . territory.' The thought slammed into him like Harley's sledgehammer. That's what he was trying to tell me. Have we grown so far apart that we now see each other's cities as territories where either one wasn't allowed to cross into? We really need to talk . . .' Batman's mind worked on the next piece of the puzzle.

Batman left the abandoned office building and returned to the parking garage. Jim Gordon was waiting for him.

"I take it you wish to talk to the Gotham group?"

"Yes," Batman stated

"I have two men over here for you. Just don't do anything that will come back on the department. I'll be waiting over here."

Batman gave Gordon a nod then approached the two men who were handcuffed. He scrutinized their faces then chose which one was the most likely to spill their guts.

'You and I are going to have a little chat," Batman growled softly.

"No . . . no,' the man plead, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Batman grabbed the man and did the same thing his son had done.

"No! I . . .saw what the . . . other fella did! I'm . . . afraid of . . . heights!'

"Then this will make it easier. Tell me who sold the guns and the ammunition."

"I . . . I . . . don't know. I just got the orders . . . to pick them up."

"From whom?" Batman growled.

"Mr. Cobblepot," the man spilled.

'Penguin . . .' Batman's eyes narrowed. 'He's been trying to muscle in ever since Falconi . . . Though this is the first time something has been connected to him directly. He always manages to slip through the cracks.' Batman switched his tactics. He couldn't trace the shipment back to whomever sold the guns from Bludhaven, but he could stop their delivery. "Do you know what Penguin wants with the guns?"

"No . . . I just take orders . . . Don't pay to ask . . . too many . . . questions," the guy said, trying not to focus on the fact that his feet were dangling out into space. 'It . . . it can get a . . . guy . . . killed."

Batman pulled the man back to safety. He hadn't learned much from this guy. Maybe the other guy was more willing to co-operate. He grabbed the second man, this time dangling him further than the first, dropping the man a couple times like a yoyo. When he finally pulled the man to safety he was more than willing to talk.

"Mr. Cobblepot ordered us to pick up a shipment at this spot. We never figured we'd be in a firefight. I'd rather take my chances in jail."

"Do you know what Penguin's plans are for the guns and ammunition?"

"No, I don't," the second man stated. "He doesn't share his plans. All he told us was to go to this spot and pick them up. He did let slip that the money for Soames would be in three suitcases and that we had to take those with us."

'Soames? Who was Soames?' Batman turned toward Gordon who was once again walking in his direction.

"Did you get what you needed?" Gordon questioned.

"Did you recover any suitcases?" Batman asked instead of answering the Commissioner's question.

"Yeah, there were three suitcases, what's in them?"

"Money, from Oswald Cobblepot."

"The Penguin?"

Batman nodded. "He's at least connected to this in part."

"What would Penguin want with that much fire power?"

"You will want to examine the ammunition," Batman stated.

"What's so special about the ammunition?"

"It's armor piercing," Batman growled remembering the damage that had been done to Nightwing's chest.

"Good God, are you certain?"

Batman didn't say anything, but it was what he didn't say that made the difference.

"No, I suppose you're right," Gordon stated. "If that's true, then every bullet proof vest isn't going to be enough. Armor piercing bullets will go through anything, including the steel plating in our police cruisers. No one is safe with those on the streets. And those came from Bludhaven?"

"Affirmative."

"What does Nightwing have to do with all of this?"

"He was trying to prevent the ammunition and the guns from reaching Gotham's streets."

"Well at least we stopped this shipment, but was this the first or . . ."

"I cannot say," Batman stated. "Not until I speak with Nightwing." Batman added in his own mind. 'But he's not in any shape to tell me.'

"We'll see what we can find out on our end," Gordon turned to face the two men. "In the mean time . . ." he turned back to see that Batman was gone.

After leaving Commissioner Gordon, Batman was very tempted to go after the Penguin, but his worried mind told him he needed to check in with Alfred first. Climbing into the batmobile, he closed and sealed the doors to where no sound could exit and he pushed the call button that connected him to the batcave and specifically to the medical bay where he knew Alfred would be with Nightwing.

"Master Batman?" Alfred answered.

"How is he?" Batman asked, trying to keep the growl out of his voice.

"He is stable and resting comfortably," another voice answered.

"Leslie?" Batman was surprised to hear her voice.

"You should have called me right away and brought him to the clinic," Leslie chastised.

"There wasn't time," Batman stated. "We were closer to the cave . . ."

"Bruce, I don't want any excuses. Dick has lost a lot of blood and that bullet came close to piercing his heart. And don't you dare chastise Alfred for calling me in. He required reconstructive surgery on his ribcage and breastplate. It's going to take months of recovery time. Right now, he's stable and sedated. Whatever you have to do, you better do it and get home. He's going to need you and Alfred to take care of him to keep him from dong something foolish."

Batman picked up the tone of her words. "Did he do something foolish?"

"No less than what you would have done. He tried get up in the middle of surgery. I had to knock him out completely. He mumbled something about not wanting to be a burden and that the cave was your domain."

Batman remained silent after that. He knew Leslie was right, but he needed to do one more thing before he went home. He knew Nightwing would understand. "I shall be home when I can." He knew Leslie would not be pleased with him. The tone of her voice was such that he knew she would have preferred that he drop whatever he was doing and come straight home for the sake of his broken child, but he couldn't. If they were going to wrap up this case on his end, he had to get whatever evidence he could against the Penguin for purchasing the illegal firearms and ammunition. What were Penguin's plans for that much firepower?

Batman drove to the Iceburg Lounge, a place where he knew the Penguin would be found this time of night. If he invaded him now, the Penguin would slip through his grasp. He did know what he could do. Shooting a grapple up to the roof, he found the Penguin's private office. He knew the office was guarded against intrusion, but it wasn't guarded against a different kind of invasion. Batman pulled out several tiny bugging devices. He placed a couple around the window. He knew there was a possibility that at least one of them would be found, so he also placed a couple near the roof line. They were powerful enough to pick up a whisper. At least this way, when the Penguin started his little game, he would be ready to listen.

An hour later, Batman was entering the cave. He moved over to the computer and plugged in several numbers and letters. The devices were now set up to transmit and record. As he worked, he could sense someone standing behind it.

"What is it Dr. Tompkins?"

"Dick has been moved up to his room," Leslie stated. "He needs to stay sedated for at least 72 hours to give his body a chance to start to heal."

"I need to talk to him," Bruce said a little more roughly than he intended.

"I will not have BATMAN talking to him like he's some criminal that needs interrogating. If I have to I will call an ambulance and take him to my clinic and then you will be forbidden to see him until I say so. Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Dr.," Batman stated.

"Now, you shall remove that getup and go upstairs and sit with your son," Leslie ordered. "It's high time that you showed some semblance of compassion for that boy. It's you that got him in this mess in the first place."

'I did not force him into this,' Batman thought. 'Nightwing came to me . . . ' Batman though didn't want to argue the point. When Nightwing showed up, Batman should have checked the area before he even tried to help tackle the gunrunners. They were all exposed, out in the open and away from cover. Neither expected that someone from Bludhaven was going to send a marksman to protect the shipment or to silence the men to keep them from talking. Now his son was fighting for his life, all because he questioned his right to be there and allowed a gunman to get in a lucky shot. He should have secured the area, made certain that there weren't traps set to catch them by surprise. Unfortunately, he did not do that, and Nightwing . . . Dick was paying the price for his mistake.

Batman moved to the changing room and removed his cowl. He placed it on its customary stand. He was about to remove his uniform when he spied Nightwing's bloody uniform still on the floor. He picked it up and fingered the gaping hole in the material. He could feel the broken fibers of the Kevlar weave that had been ripped to shreds, and images of Nightwing's face and bloodied chest invaded his psychi. Bruce knew he would not be able to sleep with that image in his mind. His son was almost . . . No, he was alive, that much was certain. He was up in his bed . . . Bruce's head lifted up toward the ceiling and he let the uniform drop to the floor. Grabbing a robe, he moved quickly through the cave and up the stairs to the Manor. He covered his uniform with the robe, not caring that he was breaking his own rule. He had to see Dick, not only to ease the guilt that he felt, but to also make sure that what Doctor Tompkins had said was true. In many ways, he let his own folly do this. He was so overjoyed to see his son that he let his caution slip away. He also allowed Batman to overrule those emotions before he had a chance to express them. The persona that was Batman seemed to be in control more and more.

'You have a job to do,' Batman stated.

'It can wait. He nearly died tonight. Would you have wanted that on your conscience?'

Batman remained silent.

'I didn't think so.'

Bruce finished changing then headed upstairs to the second floor. He wasn't prepared when he entered Dick's room. The boy . . . and for a moment that's how he saw the young man . . . the orphaned boy that he had taken in one fateful night from the circus, he never saw him so still in all of his life except when he was sleeping. The young man's face was almost as white as the sheet that covered the lower half of the young man's body. The machines that Dr. Tompkins moved into Dick's room were the only things that disturbed the silence. Bruce wasn't even aware of the tall thin figure that stood in the shadows until his knees started to buckle and the figure pushed a chair behind him so he wouldn't fall on the floor. He felt a gentle familiar hand on his shoulder.

"He shall pull through, Master Bruce. He . . . he has his father's spirit."

"Yeah . . . I guess so . . . John Grayson . . ."

"No, Master Bruce," Alfred stated. "I am not talking about Mr. Grayson. They may have given that boy life, shown him love, and taught him how to do some fancy tricks on a trapeze, but you taught that boy how to soar higher and farther than they ever could. You gave him a purpose that makes a difference. And it is not John Grayson who is sitting here, though if he were alive Master Richard would not be here . . . When that boy wakes up, it will be your face that he sees."

Alfred's words struck Bruce in such a way that left him speechless. Alfred had always told him the truth. Did Dick really see him as his father? He never wanted to replace Dick's parents, but somewhere along the line and over the years, Richard John Grayson had become more than just his ward and protégé. He had become his son.

Bruce reached up to brush the hair out of Dick's eyes. 'He needs a hair cut,' he thought.

"I take it you shall be here until he wakes?" Alfred asked.

"You know me all too well, Alfred," Bruce said with a slight smile.

"You do know that Doctor Tompkins has ordered that he be kept sedated for at least 72 hours?"

Bruce nodded, "Yeah, I know. I'm probably not going to get much sleep until he wakes up."

"I'll move a cot in here in any case."

Bruce watched as Alfred left to retrieve the mentioned cot then turned back to stare at his comatose son. He picked up his child's hand and grasped it in his own.

"Dick, I hope you can feel my hand. I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Bruce let the silence fall between them one more time. It was awkward having a one-sided conversation, but it was better than . . . No, he did not want to go there. He had to be grateful that his son was deeply sedated and not . . .

Pressing his son's hand against his lips, Bruce said, "I wanted to talk to you . . . about what you said. You aren't an intrusion. Gotham . . . The Manor . . . even the cave . . . They're your home, Dick. Gotham may seem like its Batman's City, but it's your territory too. Don't ever think that you're not welcome. I sent you on a mission. I wasn't . . . telling you . . . I wasn't throwing you out of Gotham. I . . . I . . . still need you . . . Even if I don't often say it. Please, Dick, just get well . . . Don't . . . "

Bruce swallowed the last words that were left on his tongue. It was bad enough when he lost Jason. He couldn't bear to lose Dick as well. Bruce covered his face with his hands letting the tears fall.

Continues with Part 3