It's only taken me four months or so to get out the third chapter to what was supposed to have been a Christmas one-shot. This is only the fourth time I've written this chapter, but it's the best one. And while I thank you all for your amazing patience, I'll warn you . . . There will be another chapter - Or two. I'm definitely looking forward to hearing your reviews!
It was hinted that I should include a summary of the first two chapters since it has been so long between the 2nd and 3rd chapters. I was tempted to say, read the first two chapters again, but I won't do that. ;D So, basically, here it goes:
Someone has been shipping illegal, armor-piercing ammo into Gotham and Bludhaven. On the night before Christmas, Batman gets intel that a new shipment is scheduled to come in Christmas evening. That night he dreams . . . It starts out as more of a memory of him receiving that intel, but then spins off to incorporate Bruce's subconscious fears. He dreams that instead of going home, that Nightwing intercepted a shipment alone and dies in his arms. When he wakes up, he realizes that the shipment hasn't happened yet, and he can still save Dick from dying and fix their relationship. Bruce heads to Bludhaven where he drags his courage out of his feet and tells Dick everything that he said to him in the dream when he believed that Dick was dying and ends the visit with the offer to adopt him officially. They agree to meet the shipment that night together (with Robin/Tim), and watch each other's back.
Aaaaand here we are . . . Christmas night on the docks of Bludhaven.
About five inches of snow had been dumped on the cities last night; between that and the fact that it was a holiday, the criminals felt pretty confident that they wouldn't be getting any company tonight. They were in for a surprise. Batman had been careful making sure that they left no prints in the snow to give away their location, so the criminals had no idea that they were not alone.
Batman flicked on his telescopic lenses. There was just enough light from the docks to get a positive ID of the man standing near the stern of the boat. This was their man, he was sure of it; from body language alone, he was sure of it. The man stood tall with his shoulders thrust back and his head slightly elevated; a position of power and authority.
He linked the camera in his cowl with the Bat computer, and sent the image back to be identified. While he waited he glanced over to verify Robin's position. Tim was barely visible from his angle, and unless you knew what to look for, he was likely to remain undetected by anyone else present. His eyes narrowed at the open warehouse door. He couldn't see Nightwing from here, and while that was a good thing, it made him nervous. What he could see looked frighteningly familiar; much too close to the nightmare he had had the previous night.
He had argued for Nightwing to be hidden out here. Batman didn't like that he had no choices for retreat, should it become necessary. There hadn't been a window in sight. In fact, if things got dicey, the only escape route for him to take was the door that stood wide open now, but had at least ten men milling around in front of it; each holding an automatic weapon that Batman had no doubt was loaded with their illegal ammo.
But Dick, being Dick, had insisted on taking the most dangerous position; arguing that Batman needed to be out on the docks in order to take down the head of the organization. Nightwing had gotten a tip that the big man himself would be here overseeing the shipment. And apparently the tip had been a good one.
At least Nightwing wasn't here alone tonight. Looking once more over the scene in front of him, Batman had counted at least thirty-five men, not counting the boss man himself and possibly whoever was still below deck.
Dear God! And he nearly sent Nightwing into this without backup. What the hell had he been thinking? He had no doubt now that that nightmare had been prophetic because this would have been a suicide mission. Batman didn't think even he could have managed it alone without getting himself killed. There were just too many guns . . .
They had each worn their heaviest armor in preparation for this and loaded up for bear. The armor wouldn't offer much in the way of protection, but it might slow the bullet's speed enough to prevent it from being fatal. Nightwing's uniform, however, had the least armor of the three of them because of his fighting style. Armor was too heavy for the acrobat to have the freedom of movement he needed to be able to flip and twist and fly around his opponents. As there wasn't much in the way of cover, they would need to be extra careful and watch one another's back.
"Agent A to Batman." Alfred's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Go ahead, Agent A," he whispered.
"We got a hit through Interpol, sir. The man you wanted identified is Erobos Angelopoulos, also known as Dark Angel; sometimes called the Angel of Death. Not someone one would want to take lightly. He is a Greek mafia don who has risen in power within his organization through extremely convenient accidents and out-and-out assassinations over the course of the past three years. He was an unknown before that, and Interpol hasn't any other information on the man beyond that he looks to be around thirty-five years of age and is fluent in several languages beyond his native Greek.
"Before this, this particular organization had stayed within the confines of Europe and the Middle East with limited runs into Egypt and Libya. Since Dark Angel's ascension to power, they have been extending their reach into the US, with activities in New York City, Metropolis, Boston, Chicago, Miami, and Los Angeles being traced back to them. It appears now that they are attempting to infiltrate Gotham City and Bludhaven.
"Murder and mayhem appear to follow this man wherever he goes, sir. Might I suggest a little extra vigilance during your mission?"
"Acknowledged, Agent A., and your suggestion will be considered." Batman said quietly. "Did you catch that, Nightwing, Robin?"
"Got it," Robin's voice chimed in.
"Roger that, B," Nightwing's voice sounded in his ear next.
"No taking chances," Batman warned them in a growl once again. "These people play for keeps and your armor will not stand up to the rounds they are using. We don't want the cargo to reach the docks. I'm going to set a charge and we'll sink it in the river."
"The men will likely scatter once they've spotted us," Robin commented.
"It's possible, although this Dark Angel might not be as aware of our reputations as we would like him to be. He might choose to stand and fight. He looks to be the type," Nightwing remarked.
Batman agreed. He was pleased that Nightwing's ability to assess and predict criminals had continued to improve during the years they had been apart. He had hoped that Dick hadn't stagnated in his training. Batman had watched every video feed he could get his hands on of Nightwing in action, and had been impressed with the little bit he had been able to find on the occasional ATM security feed or traffic cam that had managed to catch him on tape.
"Holy World War III, Batman, I have several cases in here of military grade weapons, including numerous M16 assault rifles with attached grenade launcher and a. . . freaking RPG? What the hell? Are they preparing to go to war?" Nightwing exclaimed over the channel. "There are more crates that are packed to the brim with the armor-piercing ammo and other types of military grade ammunitions. These guys will not be going down easy. This is the freaking motherload, and you can bet the Batmobile that they won't just roll over and let us confiscate it!"
"Just be careful you aren't caught going through all of that," Batman warned him. "You have only one avenue of escape."
"What do you want me to do, Batman," Robin asked through the comlink.
"Just hold tight and spot me," he said. "Let me know if anyone's coming."
"You're not going to get into the water, are you?" Nightwing sounded worried. "That water is too cold! The wind is too strong! You'd end up with hypothermia. Not a fun way to end the holiday."
"Do you know another way to blow a hole in the hull from here?"
There was a pause, and Batman thought he had made his point, when the com crackled back to life.
"Heh, yeah, I do!" He could hear Nightwing's grin. "Fire in the hole!"
A loud swoosh preceded the rocket that exited the darkened warehouse and made a beeline for the bow of the ship. Erobos was the first to see the danger, and yelled a warning to his men as he dived off of the mid-sized ship for the dock. For such a big man, he rolled and came up running with astounding grace. The explosion sent him and several others flying as the bow of the ship disappeared and for several minutes fragments rained down upon the startled gunmen.
"Nightwing! What the hell are you doing," Batman barked into his comlink. "You might have killed the men still on the ship!"
Nightwing laughed. "Nah," he assured him. "I overheard the men here saying that everyone had gotten off in preparation to make room for the new shipment. No one was on board except for Dark Angel, who got off safe enough. And we have the added benefit of seeing the entire shipment sink to the bottom of the Gotham River!"
Robin laughed. "That was fantastic! Did you see the way they moved?"
"I'll admit firing that RPG was a blast," Nightwing crowed.
Robin groaned. "Oh, man! I can't believe you just said that."
"You should have heard the stuff that used to come out of his mouth when he was nine," Batman remarked. "Enough talk now. Let's round these guys up! Remember to watch each others backs!"
"Uh oh, I've got company. Catch you in a few," Nightwing went silent on the com after that announcement, but everyone knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
Batman stiffened at the sight of a dozen men running towards the warehouse, but three consecutive explosions sent them all diving for cover. It looked like Nightwing was experimenting with the grenade launchers.
"Robin! Create some distractions! Get those men off of Nightwing," Batman yelled as he exploded out from behind his cover; his eyes on Erobos.
Batman threw a couple of smoke pellets out in front of him to shield him from view, even as Robin tossed a flash bang grenade down in front of the warehouse door; deafening those who had already rushed inside the building, and blinding and deafening those that were rushing toward it. Robin flew down in an arc and knocked two gunmen off of their feet and crashed into a third man as he joined the fray.
Although the gunmen couldn't see, that didn't stop several of them from firing their weapons. The trick was to keep moving. Out of the smoke came two batarangs that slammed into the sides of the M16 rifles that two gunmen carried and exploded; disabling the automatic rifles and causing just enough damage to the gunmen's hands that it made drawing their pistols impossible. They were still fumbling when a swirl of dark cape was the only warning before both men went down under a flurry of crescent kicks and a barrage of devestating punches.
In seconds, the other six men that had been encompassed by the smoke had been incapacitated, although Batman could have just drawn back behind cover and allowed them to take each other out. He didn't kill, however, and if he could help it, he didn't allow his enemies to do it either; even if their bullets had been turned upon one another.
The man known as Dark Angel was not helpless, nor did he leave his personal protection to his men. He pulled out his Sig Sauer and shot at the Caped Crusader as soon as the man emerged from the billowing smoke. The man was not lacking in his aim, and it was only Batman's quick reflexes that enabled him to avoid the deadly bullets, and prayed that they didn't hit anyone that might have been behind him.
As the Batman come close enough, Angel threw down his weapons and answered the Dark Knight's fists with his own. Angel blocked Batman's crescent kick and the follow-up roundhouse with ease. He threw a left hook into the Bat's side, and a right jab at his face. Batman nearly staggered under the blow to his ribs, but just managed to block the jab.
The Greek was not without his talents. He was a big man, but not a slow one. He knew how to fight and could throw powerful punches. Batman noted this about him immediately and changed tactics. There were still too many men, and he couldn't spend all night trading blows while his boys struggled against the rest. He needed to take the man down fast.
Batman sent the man reeling with a devestating kick to his chest, but the Greek wasn't down by a long shot. It did give Batman the seconds he needed to pull out his collapsable gas mask and toss a tear gas pellet. It barely slowed the man as he barreled into him, throwing Batman off of his feet.
The Caped Crusader fell onto his back and continued to roll and twist until Erobos was face down on the pavement and Batman straddled him. He was quick to draw the man's hands behind his back and cuff him with two sets of zipcuffs and leapt to his feet. He punched the Greek in the temple, stunning the man, before turning to evaluate the situation.
He wanted this scum off of his streets; off of Bludhaven's as well. In fact, all he really wanted was to finish this up and take his boys home. He might even be able to talk Tim into spending the night. It would be great to wake up and have breakfast with a full house. But first things first . . .
Robin did a fine job in heading off nine other gunmen that had been rushing the warehouse. Although Tim wasn't the acrobat that Dick was, Robin was fast and systematic. His flashbang grenade did a fantastic job at throwing the men out of balance, and Robin took advantage of that by pulling out his staff and extending it to its full length.
He swept the first man off of his feet and planted a boot heel into his temple, knocking him unconscious. He would have preferred to disarm the guy, but the strap to his M16 was wrapped securely around his forearm, and there were still six other men to go. He had to settle for knocking him out and hoping he stayed that way.
The effects of the grenade would be wearing off soon, and he needed to take down as many of the gunmen as possible before they gained their bearings and began using him for target practice. Robin spun into action, making sure every shot he used was dibilitating.
A sharp pain in his arm followed by an intense burning sensation meant that he had lost his advantage. One of the men he had knocked out earlier had come around and was now taking potshots at him, and it looked like one of them had gotten lucky. Robin looked down and saw the blood, but the glance had assured him that it was merely a flesh wound. The armor that covered his shoulder and bicep had been neatly pierced as the bullet had passed through; taking a nice-sized chunk of his upper arm with it.
Robin wasn't as accurate with his left hand as with his right, but the exploding birdarang he used made contact just the same. Although it wasn't lethal in the normal course of events, apparently a piece of metal from his exploding weapon sliced the guy's forehead. The gunman collapsed in a silent heap.
Fear shot through the youngest member of the Bat family as he raced to the man's side. He slumped in relief as soon as he found the gunman's pulse. It was strong. The guy wasn't going anywhere for the time being, however. The slice was deep and would definitely be leaving a scar that reached from inner-right eyebrow to the left corner of his hairline. He was lucky he didn't lose an eye.
The sound of flesh being pummeled had Robin spinning around and taking up a defensive stance, but it was Batman standing over another of Robin's victim's. As the Dark Knight straightened, he let go of the man and they both watched him rejoin the ranks of the unconscious.
"You need to pay more attention to your surroundings," Batman said. "He was just about to throw a knife at your back." He handed Robin the aforementioned knife. "Would you care for a souvenir?"
Robin expertly found the hidden switch that slid the blade back into the handle. He tucked it into a compartment in the back of his utility belt. "Thanks," he muttered, embarrassed.
"You're welcome. Are you hurt?" One couldn't hear the concern if one wasn't familiar with the Bat, but it was there.
Robin shook his head. "Just a graze. Nothing to worry about."
Batman was sweeping the men littering the area with his gaze. "Only nine?"
"Hey!" Robin was insulted.
The teenager's ego was waved off. "Robin, there were thirty-five gunmen in all. I had eight and Angelopoulos, and if you had nine; that means that Nightwing is facing upwards of eighteen men! All of them with automatic weapons and armor-piercing bullets!"
But it was quiet inside the darkened warehouse.
Robin sent his mentor a worried look, but the man stared into the building as if he were staring into the gates of hell. Not a lot of skin showed from under the Batsuit, but that which did was pale in the light from the docks and the sliver of a waxing moon. Robin looked into the building as well; searching it for movement, for danger. All was still. He could see the outlines of several bodies, but he couldn't tell if all of them belonged to the Dark Angel.
Robin licked his suddenly dry lips.
"Nightwing?"
REACTIONS?
Crap! This wasn't all for nothing was it? I promise - You will not have to wait another 4 months for the answer.
