Just a note. If you are looking for the second episode of Titans from my colleague, he has fallen behind and is unable to post it tonight. If you are also reading Titans, please be patient. It will probably be up this week sometime.
2. The Flock
The black figure of Nightwing swept down off the rooftop, landing just behind a single man. That man panicked and shouted, turning around to lift a handgun. Nightwing acted quickly, removing the slide of the weapon while removing the magazine.
He dodged to the side and struck the man in the face with his elbow, then used the hand on the gun to pull the man to the ground. Nightwing crouched over him, putting a hand on his throat to apply some pressure.
"Are you going to tell me who is in charge of you or not?" Nightwing questioned.
The man shook his head as best as he could, "No…I won't tell you…"
"Oh, I already know who you work for," Nightwing said, "Blockbuster. But that's all I know. Will you tell me anything, or will I have to take you to jail?"
The man somewhat laughed and coughed, "You have no authority to take me to jail."
"Oh, I think I do," Nightwing said, "Your name is…Thomas Larson. You are wanted on three counts of burglary, one count of mugging, oh! And you're also the getaway driver in an armed robbery that resulted in three people being shot. Now, I'm pretty sure the justice department wants you."
"H…how do you know who I am?" the man demanded, "How do you know?"
"Oh, I know," Nightwing said, smiling a bit, "I have good people working for me."
At his desk Aaron smiled, speaking into his headset, "Am I really that good?"
"Oh, yes you are," Nightwing responded, to the confusion of Larson.
"What?" the man questioned.
"Oh, sorry, I'm talking to someone else. Just hold on, I'll get back to you," Nightwing said, "No, you really are that good."
"Why thank you," Aaron responded, "Now, maybe we should stop having this conversation and you should get back to this."
"Oh, I know, I know," Nightwing said, "I just like to make him sweat a little bit. He doesn't know who I'm talking to; he doesn't know what this is all about. You know, just maybe he'll have a little time to mull over his actions."
"I'm not telling you anything!" the man shouted.
"Oh, that's a shame," Nightwing said, "That really is a shame. Um…can you do me a little favor and get his social security number?"
"What?" the man demanded.
"Let's just take a moment, don't worry about my partner, he knows what he's doing," Nightwing said, "You're not making him do much hard work, this is easy for him."
"Wait, what are you talking about?" the man shouted.
"Ok…," Aaron said, "There it is. 555-01-4163."
"Go to hell!" the man shouted.
"Yeah, that's it," Nightwing said, "Can you access all of his funds and bank accounts? I know some people in the same situation would usually extort it to a charity. I know it's a cliché, but I'm feeling charitable. I mean, clichés are clichés for a reason, they usually tend to work. I mean, I've fallen back on them a number of times, like killing two birds with one stone. I mean, I've done that, and yeah, that one worked. But that one time with skinning a cat didn't work, although it wasn't a cat, it was a cat burglar, and it wasn't a skinning… You know what? That's another story entirely. I'm not here to tell you stories."
"Go to hell!" the man shouted.
"Ok then, can you get the transfer started please?" Nightwing asked.
"Yeah," Aaron said, "Anywhere you want me to send it to?"
"Yeah, an orphanage," Nightwing said, "They always need money. And this guy was in a few burglaries and an armed robbery, so he should have some money in his account. I mean, I don't know how much…"
"He has…about…yeah, there it is. About $60,000 in his account."
"$60,000?" Nightwing asked, "Well, that's all going to a good cause at the orphanages. You should feel proud of yourself. Of course, that money was gained through horrible ways, but those kids will really benefit. You should be proud."
"Wait, wait, ok!" the man shouted, "Ok…just…I don't know anything about Blockbuster."
"You don't know anything?" Nightwing questioned, "Who are you getting your orders from then? You have to know something?"
"I get his orders from a lieutenant, then it goes lower and lower, and…"
"You get it," Nightwing said, "You told us something at least, there's a hierarchy in place. He's not dealing with low level thugs on the street like you. Now…who gives you your orders?"
"I…I told you, I don't know! I mean, I get a phone call, along with others…my guy, he doesn't meet in person!"
"What's the number?" Nightwing questioned, "What is the number?"
"It's in my phone! He changes numbers every few days, but if you look at my history, he called me twice this week! Based on his schedule, he'll change it in three days!"
"Ok. Where is it?"
"Right breast pocket!" the man shouted.
Nightwing leaned over and removed the phone, slipping it into his belt, "Thank you," he said, "Was that so hard?"
"No! No it wasn't!" the man said, "Can you please let me go?"
"You're a criminal," Nightwing said, "I'm not letting you go. Not when people have been injured because of you. Hey, you still there? Of course you are…you're in my ear. Donate that money!"
"What?" the man shouted, struggling.
"No, no, no," Nightwing said, applying a little pressure, "That money's still going to a good cause. It's better there than with you." He lifted the man, "You're coming with me." He started to drag him away, "The police are up ahead somewhere. I'll just tie you here for now."
"You can't do that! You can't!"
"I can. Trust me, there are worse vigilantes out there who could do so much worse. I'm letting you off easy."
"No!" the man shouted as Nightwing bound him to a street light and moved on.
"How'd that one go?" Aaron asked.
"It went well. Here's the number," Nightwing said, pulling out the phone, "555-982-6531. Can you run that for me?"
"Yeah, will do," Aaron said, "You know what? I don't get tired of seeing how you operate. You do a good thing out there."
"I know I do. But…some days I wonder if it's the right way of doing things. I mean, shouldn't I be just dark and brooding out here? I'm just…I don't know what to call myself. I'm a vigilante, swooping out of the shadows, saving lives and beating criminals."
"We had a good rapport going, is that what you mean?"
"Yeah, exactly," Nightwing said, "I mean, is this guy going to go tell his buddies 'Oh yeah, Nightwing was out having fun on the streets and having conversations and not being serious'. What are people going to think of me?"
"Well…scared of you. I mean, I'd still be scared of you, you're coming out of nowhere beating the hell out of people."
"Yeah, I am," Nightwing smiled a little, "I just don't know what to think about…"
"Fun? You're the fun vigilante, aren't you?"
"Yeah," he laughed a little, "I guess… Hold on." He span around, pulling both sticks into his hands, "Who are you? I know you're there!"
A figure slowly emerged from the darkness of the alley. After a few steps, Nightwing realized it was a young woman with dark hair and pale complexion somewhat visible in the dim light she stepped into.
She wore dark clothing and had nothing in her hands. Nightwing still left his weapons in hand.
"Who are you?" Nightwing questioned.
"Not a criminal, if that's what you're thinking. You can put those sticks away…or no, keep them out. You might be needing them."
"What? Who are you, and who are you to give me orders?"
"Orders? No, suggestions," she said, "Actually, a really good suggestion you really should listen to, or bad things might happen."
"What? This is sounding like a threat."
"I make no threats. I'm just telling you of what is going to happen."
"What's going to happen?" Nightwing questioned.
"At the corner of Marv and Dixon Streets. There's going to be an incident in ten minutes. You should get there quickly."
"What? Is…this some sort of joke?"
"This is no joke," she said softly, "A…warning. If you're a vigilante and hero for this city, then maybe you should go. Heed my warning and go, or people may die."
"What?"
"Go. Just go. Stop questioning me, and go!"
Dick took a few steps forward, then shook his head, "Ah! Aaron! Check that address and the police radio. I haven't paid enough attention."
"Got it. Are you sure though? This sounds like a joke."
"I don't know, but…check it, please."
"Ok…on that corner is a drug store that operates all night, and a subway station."
"I don't like that," Nightwing said, "Someone could rob it, then jump on the subway. When's the next train?"
"Thirteen minutes."
"Crime in ten…nine, a few minutes to rob, then jump on the train to escape. I don't like that."
"If something happens, the police can be at the stops," Aaron said.
"Yeah, but…I'm going. I'm going." He loaded his sticks onto his back and started to run, jumping off a wall onto a fire escape. He climbed it and kept going.
"Are you sure? What if it's a distraction? What if something is happening on the other side of town and you're being sent on a wild chase?"
"I…I don't know," Nightwing said, "But I need to go. I can't explain it, but…but I feel that need. I feel like she's telling the truth."
"Ok. If you're sure."
"I…I am sure. I…I don't know. I need to find out!"
"Ok, good luck," Aaron said.
Boone came back into the apartment with a woman. They were both laughing.
"Hold on, hold on," Boone said, opening a cupboard and setting a bottle of wine on the table, "I don't have wine often. I like wine, but my roommate doesn't have a taste for it."
"Is he here tonight?" the woman asked.
He shook his head, "No. I don't know when he'll be in, but for now…," he smiled. The woman smiled back.
"Yes, for now."
She walked over to him and picked up the bottle.
"This is fifteen years old." She looked up at him, "Can you afford this?"
"I can't afford constant aged alcohol," Boone said, "But I can afford a few bottles here and there, when I have…company."
"Oh, company? Is that what you're calling me?" she smiled.
"What would you want to be called?" he asked.
She slipped her arms around his neck, "What would you call me?" she asked.
"Oh…well," he pulled her with him into the other room, "I'll call you whatever you want to be called." He shut the door.
"Wine?" she asked.
"Hold on," he said, going back into the kitchen. He picked up the bottle, two glasses, and returned to the room, closing the door behind him.
Dick jumped off a building and landed on top of a car, then jumped onto the street. "I'm here," he told Aaron, "I don't see anything. Any police chatter?"
"Nothing," Aaron said, "But…you have a minute yet. But come on, you can't mean ten on the dot."
"I'll wait a minute," Dick said.
"She might have been screwing with you," Aaron said.
"It's possible, but I'll wait another minute or two."
"And who are you talking to?" Dick took a bat to his back and was knocked forward. He turned around to see four men. The man with the bat was lifting his weapon again and swinging it down.
Dick quickly swept his arms up to catch the bat. He pulled down and came to his feet, ramming his elbow into the man's face to take him down.
"You broke my nose!" he screamed, "Kill him!"
One man drew a knife, and the other pulled a gun. Dick assessed the situation and span around, ducking the third man's punch. He struck the man in the back of the leg with his stick, taking him down. He swung the stick forward, hitting the man in the wrist, dropping the gun.
He dodged back from the knife and kicked the man in the gut, then twisted for a side kick to the same man, knocking him back.
Dick dodged back, pulling his second stick, "I guess something was happening here," he muttered. "Damn it," he shook his head, muttering, "Fight through the pain…fight through it…" he groaned.
One of the downed men stood up and swung a knife. Dick stepped back and avoided it. He avoided two more swings and turned to face another man with another gun. The shot went off, but Dick barely dodged and smashed his fist into the man's face.
He span around and beat his stick into the knife that came at him, then rammed his other stick into the man's gut to take him back. "Only four," Dick muttered, "Police, call them!"
"Who are you talking to?" one man shouted.
"Can you…do you really think the great Nightwing needs police help?" one of them laughed, "I know we can't beat you, but you're really calling the police?"
"Well, I can't take all of you in handcuffs to the PD myself, so I'll need help, you see," Dick said, "I'm glad you admit your weakness though. You see, most criminals wouldn't admit that."
"What about us?" someone shouted.
Dick turned to see five more men rushing at him. Knives, bats, and two guns. One shot went off, and Dick barely avoided it. He brought his stick down into one bat, then used the other to parry the second.
He barely avoided a knife and turned around, seeing the men all surrounding him. Only two held guns.
"Ok, we'll make this quick," one said.
"We'll be the guys who kill Nightwing!" one laughed, "Oh, Blockbuster is going to love us!"
"What?" Nightwing questioned, "Oh, so the great Blockbuster has seen fit to have me removed. I'm so happy I've made such an impact on him."
"Shut up!" one of the men shouted. He jumped forward, swinging his knife. Dick blocked the wrist and redirected the blade aside before kneeing him back. He ducked a bat and moved towards a knife-holder, striking him twice quickly with his sticks, then span out of the circle, keeping the men in front of him.
"So, you're agile, you keep moving," one said, "You'll wear down eventually!"
Another quickly raised his gun, "Die!" he shouted, then something hit him in the back of the head and he fell. His shot went wide, and his shot hit another man in the foot.
"Ah! Son of a bitch!" he shouted, "What are you doing?"
"Something hit me!" the man shouted.
Dick looked around and saw a figure jump from a rooftop, laughing.
"What? Who is that?" one man questioned.
Nightwing moved forward, striking a man in the side with his sticks, taking him down. He span around to deliver a kick to another, dropping him.
The newcomer drew a bat from his back and smashed it into another man with both hands, taking him down. He laughed as he struck repeatedly while the man was down.
He pulled a pool ball from his belt and smashed it into another man's face as he came at this newcomer. He threw it at another man, hitting him in the gut. He laughed as he kicked the man in the gut, then stomped him into the ground.
"You!" Dick shouted, "Who are you? What are you doing?"
The man stopped laughing, but still held an unhinged tone to his voice, "Who am I? I'm Nightwing! Who are you?"
"What?" Dick questioned, "I'm Nightwing!"
"No, no, no, that's not possible," the man said. He stopped kicking, then lifted his bat to his shoulder as he approached. He beat it into another man who neared, "I'm Nightwing, you see? I may not have that fancy costume, or…those fancy sticks of yours, but…I'm Nightwing." He laughed, "I'm Nightwing!"
"You keep telling yourself that," Dick said, "Who are you? Who?"
"Nightwing," the man said slowly, "Get that through your thick skull. I'm Nightwing."
"I don't care which of you is Nightwing," one man said, lifting his gun and aiming it back and forth, "I'll just kill both of you and let Blockbuster sort it out. Now, which one of you wants the bullet first?"
"No…if anyone's taking a bullet, it's going to be you," the unhinged Nightwing said.
"All I see is a baseball bat and a cue ball. You don't have a gun," the armed man said.
"Nightwing doesn't use guns, even a copycat doesn't use guns…but…," the imposter started.
The man kept his gun trained, "You're going to pull a gun before I put a bullet in you?"
"Maybe," he smiled, "But tell me, has Nightwing ever surprised you? Yes. Yes he has. And this will just be one of his many surprises."
Dick swung his stick into the man's side, taking him down. The gun fell, then Dick kicked him back.
"See? I told you Nightwing was full of surprises." He crouched down, picked up the gun, and aimed it at the man. He pulled the trigger, "There, I shot you."
The man screamed.
"I mean, granted, I shot you through the shoulder. I could aim a little lower and put a bullet in your heart. But Nightwing shot you, just like he said he would."
Dick san and swung his sticks at the imposter, aiming the first for the gun and the second for the gut. He followed up with a swift side kick and jumped after him, kicking him in the chest. Dick pounced, putting his elbow on the man's neck.
"Who are you?" Dick shouted.
"I'm…I'm Nightwing!" the man laughed, coughing, "Who are you? Imposter…"
Dick pulled his fist back and looked around. Police lights were nearing. He punched the man in the face and stood up, "Aaron?" he asked as he rose, "Patch into the police radio. Tell them this is an imposter who needs to go to jail for vigilantism."
"Isn't that hypocritical?" Aaron asked.
"Yes, but…he's…," Dick shook his head, "Patch me through."
"Ok, you're in," Aaron said.
"Police? This is Nightwing," Dick said, "There's an imposter Nightwing here. I took him down. He's unstable and needs to go to prison. At least I operate by a code. He shot one of them. And…he's…willing to kill. This is hypocritical, but, he needs to go to jail for vigilantism and what else he did here, or you'll have a lot of dead criminals piling up. I don't think you want that."
Dick slung his sticks across his back and ran as the lights came ever closer.
"What have we got?" Catalina asked as she stood with a few officers, arms crossed over her chest.
"Nine members of the Blockbuster Gang," a detective told her, "One was shot and is currently in the hospital, but he'll recover. All of the other ones are here with various degrees of injury across their bodies."
Catalina looked at the pictures of their injuries, "This isn't how Nightwing operates," she said, "Look at that concentrated blow on this man's face. He uses those sticks, but this looks too concentrated. We've seen criminals he's beaten with strikes to the face, but this bruise pattern is much different. It was something small with a lot more force."
The man nodded, "We think that's from the copycat." He set a picture down in front of her, "We have an identification from his fingerprints. Thaddeus Ryerstad. Lost his parents at a young age to a mugging gone wrong, ended up in an orphanage. He became unstable and got into a lot of fights with the other kids, even in school before his parents death. He got worse after. He had two minor fights in school, and in the orphanage two months later broke another boy's arm in a fight."
"So, something just snapped in him?" Catalina asked.
"It's my opinion, but I don't think anything was ever fully connected in his head."
"Noted," Catalina said, "Has he ever had a psych eval?"
"He has."
"And?"
"He was put in an institution for a while, but he broke out about a year ago."
"Broke out?"
He nodded, "He broke out, but was apprehended again rather quickly, over in Keystone City. He was transferred here because he had an uncle who was willing to look after him. That didn't go well, and the uncle couldn't take care of him anymore. The statement he gave claims Thaddeus became too much, and then he was put in an institution here. And then…he broke out, somehow."
"Isn't there a paper trail with answers?" Catalina asked, "He didn't just get out."
"Well, the paper trail says that he was let out by a doctor who signed off on him."
"Any issues with this doctor?" Catalina asked, "Why would this guy be released?"
"His last eval was pretty good. He looked normal and was on medications."
"I assume he's off his meds," Catalina said, "And he's delusional." She picked up the paper, "Delusions, right here," she said, "He's in combat boots, tactical pants, mask and hockey pads. He's using a bat, and painted blue birds on his shoulders and chest. If Nightwing said he's calling himself 'Nightwing', then clearly he's still very delusional. But…," Catalina lifted her hand to her chin, "I don't like something here…where did he get his training? He took down some of these guys and fought well…"
"Yeah," the detective said, "There's something weird here."
"Military background? Anything?" she asked, "Not that the military would have him…"
"Nothing in his file," he said, "Maybe he just…learned."
"Just learned?" she asked.
"Well, maybe he watched a lot of fighting on TV and just started learning. Have you seen the movie Oldboy?" he asked, "You substitute fifteen years in prison for about eight years in a mental institution, and some fighting TV can probably teach something."
"Whatever it is, he needs to be put away," Catalina said, "I don't know if he'll go to prison, but someone needs him. Either jail or a mental institution," Catalina finished.
"Ok," he said, and the two left the room.
Dick entered the apartment and looked around. The lights were on and the alcohol cabinet was open. "Boone?" he called, "You here?"
He walked over and looked around, "Wine is gone…," he muttered. He looked at Boone's closed bedroom door and sighed, "Ok, I just need some sleep. Boone can do what he wants, and…I need a drink. I'll just sneak into my room, and be quiet, and…"
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk to yourself?" Boone asked, sanding in his doorway, "It's kind of distracting. And we could hear you."
A woman appeared behind Boone, wrapped in a blanket.
Dick smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry. Yeah, I've been told that…you've told me that."
"How was tonight?" Boone asked.
"Oh, what was tonight?" the woman asked with a smile.
"Who is this?" Dick asked.
The two looked at each other and smiled, laughing a little. "You don't care who I am," the woman asked.
"I was just being polite," Dick said, "I do care."
"You don't," she said.
"Tonight?" Boone asked.
"Yes, how was it?" she asked.
"Tonight was…fine," Dick said.
"He had a date tonight," Boone said, "It's getting serious, or so I've been told."
"Oh, how was that?"
"It's…complicated," Dick said, "Yeah, complicated."
"Oh, complicated how?" Boone asked with a cocky smile.
"We're going to have a conversation about this later," he told Boone.
"Oh, I'm sure we are," he said, "But tell us about her."
"Well, the interesting thing was that there was this other guy. He wore the same clothes…well, similar clothes to me. He caught her eye, and she left with him."
"Despite your pretty boy looks, and nice, muscular body…," Boone said.
"Muscular body?" she asked, "I'd like to see that."
"Mine's not good enough?" Boone asked her.
"A girl can have options," she said, "Or maybe he wants to…"
"He's not joining us," Boone said, "I'm drawing a line right there."
"Who said anything about joining us?" she asked, "If you want, I will show you the best night possible," she told Dick.
"Ok, I'm out," he said, "I need a drink, and I'm going to bed."
"Yeah, keep that going," Boone said, "Every night before your academy classes you seem to drink. Got to keep showing up less than sober."
"What sort of academy?" she asked.
"Police academy," Dick said.
"You want to be a Bludhaven Police Officer?" she asked, "That's hot, but these police are so…corrupt."
"Not all," Dick said.
"Most," she said.
"I won't be a corrupt cop," Dick said.
"I've known my share of them," she said, "It's kind of fun," she told him, "They like to do things other cops won't…"
"Ok, I'm out," Dick said, "I'm just going to go now, and lock my door. I'll forgo the drink and just go without a stupid decision."
"She's far from it," Boone said, "I mean, if I was ok with letting her go, I'd encourage you."
"You're drunk," Dick told Boone.
"I'm pretty sure I am," he responded.
"Yeah, goodnight," Dick told his friend. He left the kitchen and went to his room, closing and locking his door behind him. He sighed and pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number. "Aaron? Any luck on that number I gave you?"
"I found something. Actually, well…technically I found something."
"Technically?" Dick asked.
"No signal. He must have the card out."
"His phone is disabled?" Dick asked, "Ok, so he probably only has it active when making calls." He pulled out the phone from the criminal, "Ok," he looked through it, "The calls both came in at about 4:30 pm. He'll make another call around then, I'd assume."
"I have a permanent scan going," Aaron said, "As soon as the phone activates again, we've got him."
"Alright. So, you'll get an alert?" Dick asked.
"I will, and I forwarded it to your phone too."
"Thanks. If we can get someone higher up the chain, we can work our way up to Blockbuster."
"Let's hope so," Aaron said, "If you can take him down, then the city will become more stable."
"Yeah," Dick said, "Look. Get some sleep for tomorrow. I'll see you at the academy."
"Yeah, you too," Aaron responded.
Dick ended the call and tossed his phone on the bed. "Who was that guy?" he muttered, falling on his bed. He let out a breath and closed his eyes.
"When you approach somebody," the teacher was telling the students, "professional communications are key. The first thing to do is walk up and introduce yourself. 'Hello, I am' insert your name 'with the Bludhaven Police Department. I heard there was a complaint of' insert complaint here. 'I'm responding to the call. What is your name, sir or madam? Ok, can I call you that, or should I call you Mr./Mrs./Ms. last name? Ok, can you tell me what's going on here?'
"That is how to approach someone; using a similar model to that. Remember to introduce yourself properly, and as a member of the Bludhaven Police Department, or whatever department you are working for. I am only showing you the classroom model, do whatever your superiors tell you to do."
Someone in the back of the room snickered, "Yeah, that's pretty much how Bludhaven's police operate."
"Probably better than Gotham though," his neighbor said.
Dick shook his head. He opened his mouth, then shut it instead of speaking. He shook his head again.
"Now, any questions on professional communications, or at least this introduction?" the teacher asked. "Ok. Good, this is how you do things. OIR. Opening, Information gathering, and Responding. Opening, introduce yourself. Information gathering, self-explanatory. Responding, actually respond to the call and situation at hand; resolve the case. And when I say resolve the case, you do whatever you have to. You have to call in detectives, you do that. But that's for another day. For now we're covering professional communications, not investigations."
"We'll never do police stuff will we?" someone in the back shouted.
"Pushups, now!" the teacher shouted, "You don't get to speak out of turn in my classroom! Raise your hand, and I'll call on you. Ten pushups, now!"
The man got out of his seat and started.
"To answer your question, this is police stuff. Courtesy is important. Dialogue is arguably your most important tool in your tool belt. You have a gun, you have pepper spray, you have a Taser, handcuffs, baton, but the most important things you have are your presence and dialogue. If you can stop crime by just being there or saying a word, then you are a successful cop. You don't need the weapon, hopefully. Dialogue and presence. Remember those.
"No matter how boring this may seem, this is important in your training. You will get to the 'fun stuff' later. Driving, fighting, shooting. For now, you need the basics, and you'll be tested on them. Your grades will determine if you continue, remember that." He paused, "Actually, I should let you beat the hell out of each other right now. That would be interesting. Instead of letting the grades determine things, I should just let you all fight it out and start expelling those who can't fight. Instead of removing you one by one, I can see who won't pass the physical certification, and then take out a chunk of you. What's the point if you're not getting certified? This isn't a college program where you walk out with a diploma good for other fields, after all.
"Remember. Your test grades will reflect if you stay here. Hands on training will follow and determine certification status. No certification, no point in being here. This is not giving you a degree, this is getting you ready for a job. You want a degree, go to college. I will make this clear again and again, as it should have been clear from day one.
"Leave now, get your money back. The farther we go, the more money you sink in, and the less likely you are to get anything out of this. Anyone want to leave now? No? Ok, we move on." He looked up at the clock, "We're done for today I see. Go."
The students got up and left the room.
Dick looked at Aaron, "Anything yet?"
Aaron pulled his phone, "No, not yet. But it's not time yet."
"I know, but those were the times that he got calls. Who knows how many calls this guy makes, or what times? We only have one piece of data."
Aaron nodded, "We will get this guy," he assured Dick.
Dick nodded, "Yeah, I know. I just…the sooner we do this, the better."
"What happened last night with that copycat?" Aaron asked.
"He was willing to kill everyone and use my name," Dick said, "I know the police know better. They know what my costume looks like, and they know that wasn't me. I act within the boundary of the law, more or less, but not this guy. He was out to tarnish my name. I'm hoping that the citizens of Bludhaven don't confuse us and destroy my name."
Aaron nodded his head, "I don't think they will. They know you as a hero, after all."
"Can you look something up for me?" Dick asked.
"Yeah, what is it?"
"Can you see the police files from the arrests? See if you can get any data on this guy, and…"
"Stop," Aaron said, "You want me to run the injuries those men obtained, then run them against other reports and see if I can find other victims and how far back this goes."
Dick nodded, "Exactly."
"I'll go home and get that done," Aaron said.
"We should do something tonight, or soon," Dick said, "Get a drink or something."
"We should," Aaron said, "All we do now is talk a few minutes here and there here, and then spend our nights talking over a radio."
"We do," Dick said, "You should also meet my roommate. The three of us would have fun…but of course, I want to just do the two of us first."
"I know," Aaron said, "Either way is fine."
"I should go check on him. I think he's sober by now," Dick said, "The days he has a day off, he drinks a lot the night before. Today is one of those days."
"What does he do?" Aaron asked.
"He is a paralegal," Dick said, "He gets about a day off every two weeks or so, can move them around, or save them. Basically if he's ever at home during the day like this, he's been heavily drinking and fooling around the night before."
"What's that like?"
"Last night it was harassing me about the events of my night, sleeping with a woman, and then she was trying to get me into bed as well."
Aaron laughed, "Must be hard being so good looking."
"You're a good looking man too," Dick told Aaron, "We should go to the bars, and…"
"No," Aaron said, "I'm good with my life as I am."
"Fine," Dick said, "But my offer will stand."
"Noted," Aaron said, "Later, Dick."
"Bye Aaron."
"Is there anything you can tell me about this guy?" Catalina asked, holding a picture up to Kate.
"I've never seen him before," she responded, looking to Catalina, "This isn't Nightwing though, is it? I never expected him to look so…low budget," she said.
Catalina shook her head, "No. This is a copycat. I've never seen Nightwing myself, but other officers have. This isn't him. Besides, Nightwing himself called to us in our radio, and told us to arrest this guy. Apparently Nightwing took this guy down. His real name is Thaddeus Ryerstad, with a history of mental issues and violence."
"What did he do to draw Nightwing's attention?"
"He took down some of Blockbuster's men and tried to kill them."
"I'll see what I can find out," Kate said, "But he's in your custody, does it matter if I find anything?"
"We'd like to see if we can find anything on his activities. But we're cross referencing the wounds he gave last night to some others in our files. If we can stick more to him, we can put him away longer, in case he doesn't get to go to a mental institution. We're building a case."
"Understood," Kate said, "Oh…there's talk coming down from up above. I don't know what it is, but it's coming."
"Any info on that at all? Guesses?"
"Nothing at all," she said, "Like I said, it's still making its way down. It's higher now, but it is coming down. I'll let you know when it hits me."
"Thanks," Catalina said, climbing into her car and leaving the alley.
Dick returned home to see Boone lying on the couch with a bottle of water in his hand. "Oh, you're back," he said, taking a long drink of water. He shook his head, "I drank too much."
"Did the wine do that much?" Dick asked.
"We both had about half the bottle, then more alcohol…it all got to me." He sat up, "Oh, my head…sorry about being a dick last night. I just thought it would be funny to watch you squirm."
Dick nodded, "It's fine. I'm good at thinking on my feet, or I'd, you know, be dead like a hundred times over by now."
"What was that cover story of yours last night?" Boone asked, "I mean, I know you, your lies come from a truth."
Dick let out a breath, "It's interesting." He sat down in a chair, "There was a copycat last night."
"Copycat? What do you mean?"
"He was wearing a…padded, combat-based costume with blue birds. He was using a bat and pool balls, he was a decent fighter…he was calling himself Nightwing. I beat him, made sure he was arrested, but…he was deranged. He laughed the whole time as he beat criminals. It was crazy."
"Your whole world is crazy Dick," Boone said, "Jumping rooftop to rooftop, fighting criminals and…God knows what. Right now it's just criminals, but look back at your past and the freaks and murderers you faced."
"A copycat is the least of my problems," Dick finished, "Unless it affects my public image. I can't let him ruin my image for the public or police. I mean, the police will have it dealt with and he's in jail, but…maybe the public will get the wrong impression."
"He's in jail at least."
"What about another copycat? Or someone else inspired to become a vigilante?" Dick asked, "Am…am I going to bring more pain to the people of this city? Will I create more people willing to go to such extremes? I can't let that happen. I can't let people lose their family members to vigilantism."
"You're overthinking this," Boone said, "Look. You came to Bludhaven because the police can't do this alone. I don't like what you do, and I fear for your safety, but you have a good reason for doing it. You can't stop what you're doing."
"I know I can't. Oh…there was another weird thing last night."
"What was it?" Boone took another drink of water.
"I met a woman before the copycat incident. She told me exactly where to go, and when something would happen. Sure enough, down to the second, something happened. I was attacked, but I protected the drug store that was going to be hit at least."
"She gave you a premonition?" Boone asked.
"I guess," Dick replied, "I mean, I'd usually write that off, like a criminal setting something up and letting me go into a trap, or distracting me from something else, but…I timed it. It was perfect."
"You timed it?" Boone asked.
"I had it timed," Dick said.
"Whatever," Boone said, "So, this woman gave accurate information?"
"I didn't get a name or anything, but yeah, there's something really weird about her. I'm going to go seek her out later. There's something really weird…"
"You do that. I'll just nurse this hangover," Boone said.
"How was last night?" Dick asked, "No details, please…"
"Oh, no details unless you beg for them," Boone said, "I mean, I know your love life and your situation. I'm sure you'd love some details…"
"I'm happy how I am. And no, no details," Dick said, "Never any details. Do I look like the guy who has time for women?"
Boone shook his head, "You have good looks, you'll always be there, but yeah, I see what you mean. Your nights are better for beating up criminals than wining and dining women."
"Or in your case, wining and screwing them," Dick said, "Sorry. Had to make a joke."
Boone laughed, "Never thought I'd hear something like that from you."
"You must be rubbing off on me."
"A year will do that to a guy. You go do what you need to do Dick. I'll be here."
Dick nodded, "Ok, see you later," he picked up his coat and left the room.
The young woman walked down the busy street. She suddenly stumbled and gripped her head, groaning. She drew her hand down and pulled up the hood of her hoodie so it covered her head, then kept walking. She grabbed her head again and let out a louder shout as she stumbled.
"Are you ok?" a man asked, reaching out to touch her.
"Back," she hissed. Suddenly he stumbled away and was knocked into a parked car on the side of the street.
"W-what was that?" the man questioned, taking a step forward.
"I said back!" she snapped. He was knocked back and flipped over the top of the car, landing in the street. A car swerved to avoid hitting him. People stared, and the woman started to run down the sidewalk.
She turned the corner and slumped down against the wall of an alley. She sat in silence for a few moments, then she turned her head.
"You found me," she said softly, coming up to her feet, "Nightwing."
Dick stopped and stared at her.
"Yes. I know who you are," she said, "Or…what you are, maybe."
"You have it all wrong," Dick said.
"Then why did you come looking for me?" she questioned, "If you aren't him, then we've never met."
Dick scratched his head, "Yeah…good point." He dropped his arm and then crossed both over his chest, "Who are you, and how did you know that crime was going to happen?"
"Are you Nightwing?" she questioned.
"Um…"
"Are you?"
"Yes," he said, shaking his head, "Yes, but you can never tell anyone."
"I wouldn't," she said, "But a name is important. A name bears the soul. You may have another name, and have had other names in your past. You've only just found your real name, the name imprinted on your soul, and your very being. And that name is Nightwing."
"I guess I do," Dick said, "And what name is on your soul?"
She smiled a little, "That name is Raven."
"We're both birds," Dick said.
"I think we both long for the freedom that wings can provide," Raven told him.
"Raven…what's your real name? Mine is Dick Grayson," Dick said.
"My real name is irrelevant," she said.
"Humor me," he said.
"…Rachel Roth," she said.
He nodded, "And I guess I should just call you Raven?"
"You should. But do not fear, I won't betray your name, not until you choose of your own accord to bear it for all to see."
"For that you have my thanks," Dick told her, "Can you tell me how you knew that crime was going to happen?"
"You stopped it," Raven said, "That's what matters. How I knew doesn't matter."
"Um…it does. Because, you know, it makes you apparently psychic, or part of this," Dick told her.
She shook her head, "I'm not part of this. I will tell you that much." She turned away and started to walk away from him.
"Hey! Don't leave!" Dick ran after her, but he suddenly stopped and stumbled back, "What did I just hit?" he muttered. She was gone. He ran ahead, now able to keep going, and looked around as he came out. "Where…where did she go?"
"We have him tied to eight different cases of assault," Catalina said, setting photographs down, "These injuries match the injuries of Mr. Ryerstad's confirmed victim from last night. These charges range from assault to great bodily harm. At least one can be deemed attempted murder, premeditated."
The lawyer who sat across from her looked at everything and nodded, "Yes, this seems to be in order." He pointed to two pictures, "The wounds are the same. Are you sure this is him?"
"We checked other cases," Catalina said, "We can confirm what Nightwing has done and how he fights. In the cases that we have, this is vigilante activity. If you want corpses, then look somewhere else, that's gang stuff."
"How do you know one was premeditated attempted murder?" the lawyer asked.
"He confessed," she pushed a piece of paper forward, "He said that one was planned."
The man read over the document and nodded. "May I?"
"We have copies," Catalina said.
The man placed the documentation in his briefcase, "By day's end we'll have him transported for holding. We'll get him before the judge immediately. This case should be closed in no time."
"Thank you," Catalina said as she came to her feet, "We appreciate it. I'll see to arranging his transport so that he can be out of here as soon as you give us the ok."
The lawyer nodded and left.
Aaron was studying a book of statutes when his computer started to beep. He pushed the book aside and looked up. He picked up his phone, "Dick? The signal is there! Your phone will have all the info you need!"
Aaron looked at his monitor as he set his phone on the desk, "Rundown housing? Guess this guy isn't as high up as Dick thought if that's where he's based out of…"
The man walked around the rundown house on his phone, "I need you to go to Fifth Street at seven tonight. You'll be meeting with…"
The window exploded as Nightwing swung in. He rolled, came to his feet, and span around, smashing his stick into the man's leg, taking him down screaming.
Nightwing crouched and picked up the phone, "You might want to just stay home and reconsider your life choices," he said, tucking the phone into his belt. He crouched down and hefted the man up, "I've been looking for you," Nightwing hissed.
"I…I thought you only operated at night…," the man said.
"Yeah, usually," Nightwing said, "But for you? You're a special exception. Now, you're coming with me, and you're going to answer some questions."
Thaddeus sat in the back of the squad car as he was being transported.
"This is Officer Tristan," the officer driving stated, "Leaving the precinct with Ryerstad. We'll be at the prison in fifteen or so."
"10-4"
Thaddeus sat silently in the back of the squad in handcuffs. He looked up at Officer Tristan and smiled a little, "Do you have family?"
"I have a wife," he said, not looking back.
"A wife…how nice," Thaddeus said, "Is she hot?"
Tristan didn't answer.
"Oh, guess not," Thaddeus said, "You're not a bad looking man. You didn't need to settle."
"I didn't settle. She's lovely," Tristan said with annoyance filling his voice.
"Lovely? That sounds like code or a lie."
"Why would I lie?" he questioned.
"To hide your shame and embarrassment of course," he chuckled, "You got any ugly kids too?"
Tristan looked back at Thaddeus, "I said fifteen minutes, right?"
"You did," Thaddeus said.
The squad turned and pulled into a parking garage. It drove towards the back, out of sight.
"Oh, where are we going?" Thaddeus questioned.
Tristan parked the car and got out. He opened the back and pulled Thaddeus out by his shirt, slamming him into a column. "You get it now?" Tristan questioned, punching Thaddeus in the gut.
"Yeah…yeah, I get it," Thaddeus laughed, "You don't hit very well…"
He took a punch to the face and fell forward. The officer kicked him while he was down, then pulled him up, "Back in…"
Tristan's gun was pointed at his chin, angled up. Tristan's eyes went down to his holster, and sure enough, his gun was gone. "You'll do what I want now," Thaddeus hissed, "Take your handcuff key slowly and set it on the car. Now! Or I'll blow your brains out," he hissed.
"What?" Catalina shouted as she hurried over to some other officers huddled around a radio.
"Yes, your officer is my prisoner now," Thaddeus was saying over the radio, "I'll blow his brains out if you don't give me what I want…"
"What are your demands?" a voice came back.
"I want my gear. And blue paint," he said, "I already told you where we are. If you try anything, well…Officer Tristan won't go back to his ugly wife and kids. Not in one piece, anyway."
"We'll send your things in an hour," the voice said.
"No. Ten minutes. Or he dies."
"Ten minutes."
"I need to go," Catalina said, running out of the room. She ran down the hall and found someone in a suit collecting Thaddeus's gear, "Why did you agree?"
"Because I care about the life of Officer Tristan," the man said, "Detective, stand down. We're sending an officer in to drop these things off."
"Do you have a team? SWAT?" Catalina asked.
"We're not sending a team in," the man said, "Not yet. Once Officer Tristan is safe, then we'll take care of it. Until he's released…"
"Ryerstad will just kill him once he gets what he wants!" Catalina shouted.
"You don't know that. Now move aside, Flores. I need to get these things delivered. I have a deadline." He pushed past her and left an angry Catalina behind.
Tristan was handcuffed in the back seat of his squad while Thaddeus sat with the shotgun from inside the squad, along with the officer's handgun sitting on the trunk of the car. He stood beside the weapons, waiting. The part of the garage they were in provided only one way in, and no windows or anything from any sides.
As soon as a car was approaching, Thaddeus drew the officer out and put a gun to his head. The squad came slowly, then the officer exited his car, "I have no weapons on me! Not even my belt!" he shouted, holding his hands up.
"My gear!" Thaddeus shouted.
The officer nodded, "I'm going to slowly remove it from my back seat!"
Thaddeus nodded. He slowly opened the back door and slowly pulled out a large bag. He carried it forward, setting it down a few feet in front of Thaddeus, as directed by the man's gun.
"Thank you," Thaddeus said. He shot the officer in the leg, causing him to drop and scream in pain. Thaddeus pushed Tristan towards the wounded officer. He hit Tristan in the back of the head with the gun and then undid one handcuff, then cuffed the two officers together. He pushed them into the back of the first squad.
Thaddeus climbed into the second squad, "Now I have two hostages, and one is bleeding," he said into the radio as he parked the car so that it blocked him in, parking it sideways, "You have one hour to get me ten thousand dollars. I imagine you won't want to wait that long, though, not with your man bleeding out back here."
Thaddeus got into the trunk of the squad and found some road flares. He walked out and started to light them, tossing them over to the side, right next to some cars. He smiled as he watched them burn, and then he went into his bag, pulling out his gear as he soon heard the fire intensify behind him. Then there was an explosion and he laughed.
"Leave him," Aaron told Dick, "There's a hostage situation. The hostage taker is your copycat. He's demanding a lot of money, and one officer is bleeding out."
Nightwing had tied the man's wrists to a pole and was standing nearby. He sighed, "I'll be back for you," he told the man, then he jumped out the window, "Send the police. I don't want this guy getting away. Maybe they can get something out of him."
"On it," Aaron said, "I'll patch you into the police so you can inform them you're coming."
"No," Nightwing said, "I need to be covert. If he's making demands, he's using the radio, right?"
"Good point," Aaron said.
"Just tell me where he is."
Thaddeus was clad in his full gear, looking at the raging fire. On his shoulders and chest were crudely written words, stating "Nite-Wing" in blue paint. He looked at the two officers, and saw Tristan applying pressure to the wound.
"He needs a hospital!" he shouted at Thaddeus.
"I know. Let's hope your police friends pull through and get me what I want. Then he can have one."
"You're a vigilante. You fight criminals," Tristan said, "Why would you do this?"
"Because the police are criminals too," Thaddeus hissed, "You corrupt bastards. Most of you are no better than the criminals on the street!"
"Maybe I'm not the best cop, but he's a good man!" Tristan shouted.
"Maybe you should have thought about that before you beat me," Thaddeus told him.
Nightwing was crouched behind a car. He was crawling under cars and rolling, making a silent approach towards Thaddeus. He had one more car to clear before he'd be in the area. He was currently crouched behind the wheel so that he couldn't be seen by looking under the car.
He touched his ear.
Thaddeus's radio started to go off with static, as if someone were keying their microphone. He picked it up from the trunk of the car, "What? Are you here with the money?" No answer came. "Hey!" He moved from the trunk and looked in the back of the car, "Your radio's acting up!"
Nightwing rolled under the last car and came up silently behind Thaddeus. His eyes fell on the two guns on the back of the squad, and then Nightwing swiftly moved forward and grabbed Thaddeus from behind, around the neck.
"You're not going to hurt anyone else!" Nightwing shouted, pulling him away from the car.
Thaddeus struggled and grabbed at Nightwing behind him. He grabbed the arm around his throat and quickly dropped down, tossing Nightwing over his shoulder as he threw his upper body forward. Nightwing lost his grip and rolled.
Thaddeus went for one of the guns. Nightwing drew a stick and threw it, striking Thaddeus in the side of the head. He stumbled and fell back. Nightwing drew his second stick to hand as Thaddeus drew a ball from his belt. He shouted and threw it forward.
Nightwing shifted, but the ball would have missed anyway, "Close, but your aim is…"
There was an explosion behind Nightwing, and the vigilante was knocked forward. He stumbled and found Thaddeus's bat swinging right for his face. Nightwing barely stumbled under it and fell, rolling.
"That was my gunpowder ball!" Thaddeus laughed, slamming the bat down at Nightwing, who barely got his stick up in time to protect himself.
"I'm going to stop you," Nightwing hissed.
"You'll be too dead to stop me!" Thaddeus laughed. He lifted his bat again and started to slam it down, but Nightwing rolled up, drawing both legs up above his face, and planted both feet into Thaddeus's chest, kicking him back.
As Thaddeus fell back, Nightwing rolled up to his feet. He ran for the guns and pushed them aside, knocking them to the ground. He shifted them with his foot, pushing them under the car.
Thaddeus came swinging with a wild, powerful swing. Nightwing ducked and span around, slamming his stick into Thaddeus's back. The copycat shouted and stumbled, hitting a pillar. He came back around and threw a ball at Nightwing, but he deflected it with his stick.
Nightwing crouched and picked up his discarded weapon, lifting both as he came to his full height, "This is over for you, Thaddeus!" Nightwing shouted.
"No…it's not over for me. It'll never be over for me!" he shouted, running forward. He swung, but Nightwing blocked with one stick and jammed the end of the other into the man's gut. He staggered back and hit the squad. He ran forward again, missing his swing. He stumbled, then shifted himself over to the other squad car, which blocked the way to where his hostages were.
Thaddeus was opening the door and trying to get inside. Nightwing threw one of his sticks forward and it struck Thaddeus in the side of the head. The man slumped down across the passenger seat and remained down.
Nightwing helped Tristan and the other officer out. "Hold on," he said, getting into the trunk of the squad. He pulled out a small medical kit and wrapped what he could find around the officer's leg. He picked up the radio, "This is Nightwing. Thaddeus is down. Get in here now!" He looked to Tristan, "Take care of him." He ran, picked up his stick, and then produced a zip tie and tied Thaddeus's hands to the steering wheel. He moved around the car and ran out as the sirens could be heard approaching.
"We lost the phone guy, but you helped recapture Thaddeus," Aaron said as he and Dick sat in Aaron's apartment.
"Yeah," Dick said, "But we lost our chance to get information on Blockbuster's hierarchy." He held up a phone, "We have this though."
"Maybe we can still get somewhere," Aaron said, holding his hand out, "I'll see what I can pull out of it."
Dick placed it in his friend's hand, "I saved some officers. That's what matters," Dick said.
Aaron nodded, "Yeah. That is what matters. You'll get your chance at Blockbuster soon enough too. Don't rush it."
Dick nodded, "Yeah. Thanks for all of your help, Aaron."
Aaron smiled, "What did you do before me?"
"I mostly was out there, beating up criminals. Very little technological edge."
"Well, now you have it," Aaron said, "That's one thing that separates you from Thaddeus."
"You know, if nothing else, he's not Nightwing," Dick said, "He spelled his name differently on his costume. Or…whatever you want to call it."
"Well, then you're still one of a kind," Aaron said.
"Except in regards to the soul of a bird," Dick said, "But yeah."
"What do you mean?"
"It's nothing. Nothing important anyway," Dick said, "I'll catch you up when it becomes relevant."
Aaron nodded, "Alright then. How's the officer?"
"As far as I know, he'll live," Dick said, "It wasn't a very bad wound, and he had pressure on it long enough. I'm no doctor, but it looked good to me. Well, not good, but not fatal."
"I get it," Aaron said, "So, you going out again tonight?"
Dick smiled, "Of course I am. What else do I have to do at night?"
"Date? Like a normal person?" Aaron asked, "Well, then again, I'm not either."
"People like me…we don't get time for things like that," Dick said, "You still have a chance though. You can live a normal life."
"And why can't you live one?" Aaron asked.
"I'm too far gone. Dead parents, an upbringing that thrust me into being a hero, or vigilante. Depends who you talk to. I'm technically a criminal. I could stop, but my conscience won't let me. I'm doomed to continue this, and unfortunately I don't have time for normal things in life. No matter how many women might throw themselves at me."
"I'm sure that one happens all the time. Dead serious," Aaron said.
"Happened last night with my roommate's girl," Dick said, "But I just can't. It's not me."
"Then who are you?" Aaron asked.
"A vigilante. Someone who hunts in the night for criminals. Nightwing."
Aaron looked at him for a bit, then he nodded. "Then let me get you some names and people to run down," Aaron said, holding up the phone.
"I have to be at Fifth Street at seven," Dick said, "Of course, I don't know where exactly."
"Well then, let's get to work," Aaron said with a small, sad smile.
Catalina got out of her car, "This had better be good, Kate," she said as she approached the younger woman.
"It is," Kate said, "Remember how I said earlier there was something big going on above me? It came down, finally."
"How big is it?"
"Ten million dollars big," Kate said. "Blockbuster put a hit on Nightwing for ten million dollars. He wants Nightwing's head. Up until recently he's tolerated things, but now…now it's active."
Catalina nodded, "I don't know why you told me. I can't do anything about it. Nobody at the PD is connected to Nightwing to my knowledge. At least not in any public way, unlike Gotham."
"I figured," Kate responded, folding her arms over her chest, "I just needed to warn you. I know he's helping you guys. Especially today."
Catalina nodded, "I appreciate the tip." She held out a couple of bills, "Your pay. One hundred."
Kate took it and pocketed it, "A pleasure, Detective."
Catalina watched Kate leave, then got into her car. She picked up the radio and waited for a few moments. She keyed the microphone.
"This is Detective Flores. It has come to our attention that a hit has been put on Nightwing. Be cautious." She put the radio down and looked up at the sky out her window, "Be careful, Nightwing…"
She put her car in reverse and drove away.
Author's Note:
And thus Raven rounds out our main cast: Dick, Aaron, Boone, Catalina, Raven, Kate
Just wanted to confirm that main cast