2
HOT WASH

Robin was the last to arrive at the Bunker underneath Wayne Tower. The first year as Robin the Team had used the cave underneath Wayne Manor as their base of operations. Eventually Batman had decided the cave was too far away and the possibility of the Batmobile being tracked eventually was too great. An off-the-books bomb shelter underneath Wayne Tower had been the perfect solution. The shelter had been built during World War Two by Bruce Wayne's grandfather. It connected to Wayne Manor through a tunnel that had been part of the old subway system before the Gotham Quake of 1936. The series of tunnels underneath the city were deemed structurally unsound after the quake, sealed off, and eventually forgotten. Bruce's grandfather had converted the Wayne Tower Central Station into a bomb shelter after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The project was off the books for security reasons and all available records of the old system were destroyed except for the plans that had been passed down through the family. Bruce had converted the station underneath Wayne Tower into the Bunker. The Bunker served as the central hub for the four other satellite Batcaves built into other stations throughout Gotham. The Bunker and it's satellites were as well equipped as the original Cave. The tunnels running throughout Gotham gave the Team covert access to nearly any area in the city.

Robin stowed his cycle and headed towards the infirmary to check on Batman. Bruce Wayne lay on a hospital style bed wearing only running shorts now. Alfred was leaning over the bed, finishing up his exam.

"How bad?" Bruce asked Alfred.

"Not bad at all, actually. Ribs are bruised, not broken. You don't seem to have a concussion, and the knee doesn't have much damage. Nothing torn, just some swelling. I can give you something for that, but I'm afraid Batman might not be spotted in Gotham for a few weeks. Any sooner and you'll reinjure yourself - "

"And be out of commission for longer, making me less effective in the long run," Bruce finished the thought for Alfred. "Got it." Bruce turned to Robin. "Drop your kit, put the uniform in it's station and get cleaned up. Hot wash in 30 minutes." Bruce was not one for small talk. Robin nodded, turned and headed for the armory station.

"Might I say, sir, if you can keep this relatively low level of injury on a nightly level you might just live to see forty." Alfred said.

"Heh," Bruce smirked. It was the closest thing to a laugh the real Bruce Wayne expressed. His expression immediately clouded over as he replayed the night's events in his head. "I need to figure out what to do about what Batgirl said when she thought her suit mic was off. She was ready to disobey a direct order. She tried to get Robin to go along. She hasn't done this before."

"Sir, several times she has gone against orders."

"Not like this. There were people in imminent danger before. She's made calls in the field under dire situations when I'm not available. Never with him. Never with the Joker."

"And how many times have you broken your own rules in pursuit of that madman? How many times have you gone against reason and put your life on the line against all odds to stop him? Your proteges are modeled on your example. Being trained by the Batman not only encourages this type of behavior, it nourishes the mentality. You taught two teenagers a skill set that is unparalleled and expect them to not put that training to use when you're not around. Batgirl's actions are the logical conclusion to growing up under the shadow of the Batman. And they are growing up, sir. You need to adapt to that reality. They're becoming young adults. See them as they are, not your nostalgic version."

"It's not nostalgia. I had more years of training and more experience by the time I fought Joker first. My training and experience didn't prepare me for him. They're not ready for the Joker on their own."

"Master Bruce, they're your creation. You trained them. Either you have to admit your training is inadequate, or you will have to learn to trust them." Alfred turned and walked out of the infirmary, leaving Bruce alone to contemplate their conversation.

Robin walked to the armory station of the Bunker and removed his utility belt, placing it next to the other belts used that night. He took the various weapons stored in his uniform and stowed them in the proper bins. From there he went to the uniform station and removed his armor, head cover, and mask placing them in the cleaning and repair pile. He was Dick Grayson again. One of Batman's stringent rules was never to use your civilian name while in uniform. It was a good habit to build. You never know who is listening or what might slip during times of stress. Operational security was vital to the mission.

Dick headed to the locker room. He removed the bodysuit all the team wore underneath the uniform and tossed it into the laundry. Grabbing a towel he headed for the showers. One was already running. Dick silently crept to Barbara's stall and jumped in.

"Hey! Need a scrub down?" he whispered to Barbara.

Barbara jumped back, startled. "Gah! Dick, what the hell?" She had been lost in her thoughts and wasn't used to being snuck up on. It made her already sour mood worse.

"Babs, relax. Sorry. Just thought you might want some company." Dick grinned and gave Barbara his best come hither look. Usually it worked.
"Oh my God, are you serious? After tonight? You are totally living up to your name right now.. Get out." Barbara glared icily at him.

Dick was taken aback. He knew she had been upset, but not this upset. "Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was that big of a deal." Dick reached down and took her hand in his. "I'm sorry," he repeated. Barbara pulled her hand back.

"Dick, go take a shower. A cold one." Barbara turned her back to him. He didn't know what to say, so Dick turned around and went to his own shower without saying anything else.

Ten minutes later all four were seated at the conference table located in the War Room for the hot wash. Bruce, Dick, and Barbara were all dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts. A liter of water and a protein/electrolyte recovery shake prepared by Alfred was sitting next to each field operator. A hot wash was a full debriefing of the previous mission. The chronology of events was reviewed first, followed by mission assessment. In every mission some things went right and some things went wrong. Hot washes were about full disclosure. Each team member reviewed their own actions and the actions of the rest of the team. No judgement was allowed during the hot wash. Actions were simply examined to see what worked and what did not. It was naked and raw and egos were not allowed. It allowed the Team to learn from their mistakes and improve future mission performance. Alfred always began with the review.

"At 2127 hours Gotham dispatch received a 911 call from a cell phone number registered to Robert J. Monahan. It is assumed but not confirmed that is who placed the call. Only two words were heard, presumably from Mr. Monahan. "Joker" and "help". The call ended after that. Our ECHELON monitoring system flagged 'Joker' and an alert was sent out to each Team member. The GPS on the phone placed the call coming from an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district of Gotham. It isn't known why Mr. Monahan was there. Records show nothing more than parking tickets. Monahan was 27, white male, native to Boise, Idaho and lived in Gotham for 5 years after he left university. Occupation was insurance adjuster. He was single and lived with a roommate. This was all pulled from his DMV, tax records, and Facebook page. Mr. Monahan did have one interesting hobby. He coordinated and participated in geocaching. Participants put a box with in a specific location and give the coordinates online. Others will find the box and leave an item and sign a guest book. The best guess I can give is either he was assessing a location for a future cache or was actually in the middle of one. Batman was closest to the location and was already in the Batmobile at the time. I briefed him on Monahan as he was en route. At the time I tasked our satellite monitoring system to the location. Intermitent cloud cover and fog reduced the effectiveness of satellite imagery. Visual came in and out. Bruce?"

Bruce stood and took up where Alfred left off. "Because it was the Joker, I told Batgirl and Robin to approach within 4 blocks of the warehouse and await further instructions. I parked the Batmobile a little under a mile away. There was no way to tell at the time if Joker had the surrounding area monitored and I didn't want to give away my approach. I grappled to the roof of the nearest building and made my way towards the warehouse. I landed on the roof of the warehouse. No guards or monitoring devices were visible. I made my way to a rooftop skylight, switched to thermal lenses. Only two signatures were visible. Joker was standing over Monahan, severely beating him with a chain. Monahan was in immenent danger and I immediately opened the skylight and tossed a flash-bang towards the Joker. That's the last thing I remember. Alfred, what did you see?"

Alfred picked a remote off the conference table and clicked a button. On the largest monitor a digital recording of the satellite view popped up. Batman could be seen on the roof. He opened the skylight, dropped something in. The screen immediately flashed. The windows on the warehouse all exploded at once and fire streamed out of them. Dust and smoke filled the screen. "The flash-bang is probably what caused the explosion," Alfred said. "We don't know what was in there. It could have been something as simple as a gas leak."

Bruce took over again. "The blast knocked me to the adjacent rooftop. I woke up and assessed my injuries. Breathing was difficult and my knee was in pain. I was disoriented. My com gear was rendered inoperable so I made my way back to the Batmobile to reestablish communication. Dick, Barbara, your turn. Who's first?"

Dick looked to Barbara. She didn't return the look. Dick shrugged, stood and began. "Barbara and I were eating dinner in the Kubrick District when we received the alert. We paid, left, and made our way to the Monolith Square cave. We suited up and grabbed our standard belt kit and made our way towards the Tricorner Yards. En route we received our orders and within a few minutes the explosion happened. We parked our bikes four blocks west and went topside for a better visual. Batgirl and I were on opposite ends of the roof. At the edge of the roof we spotted Joker, seemingly injured or dead, laying against the wall of the alley. We received our orders, waited, and monitored the Joker. Within a few minutes Harleen Quinzel arrived in an older model Camry. Quinzel briefly assessed the Joker's injuries and put him in the back seat before driving away." Dick turned to Barbara. "Babs, anything to add?"

"Nothing," Barbara said coldly. Bruce, Dick, and Alfred traded looks. Barbara usually elaborated on details all three would have left out. She was the smartest of the group and had an editic memory which gave her an advantage over everyone else. Barbara never missed anything.

Bruce stood up. "Let's take a look at what went right. Alfred, good work on coordinating the Team. Dick and Barbara, good response time. All three of you kept your heads when you thought I was dead or injured. No panic. Things also went wrong. First, weather interference with imagery. In the amount of time everything happened Alfred couldn't have launched a drone, manned it, and coordinated the Team simultaneously. Drones don't have the fuel range to stay up for long. Satellites are unreliable. We can have one or the other but not both with our limited manpower. I want all of you to come up with some ideas on improving this. We'll come back at a later time and see what we come up with. Get creative. Second, my flash-bang is what set off the explosion. Time was crucial and I didn't have time to fully assess the situation before action. Even with the time I might have missed it. We need to develop non-explosive flash-bangs. A device with incredibly bright light and high sound output that can also emit the concussion blast to cause disorientation. The only trouble is leaving the tech behind at a scene. As for what caused the explosion, there are devices that can detect odors and gases. But they're bulky and would hinder a standard kit on utility belts. Another project for us to consider. That's it. Any questions or comments?"

"We had him." All three men looked to Barbara. "We had him and he got away. He got away because you ordered us to let that happen. We had him."

"In hindsight, yes." Bruce replied. "We didn't know that at the time. The call was made on the information we had."

"Bullshit!" Barbara yelled.

"Babs!" Dick reached across the table to take her hand. "It was the right call. Calm down!" Barbara pulled back.

"It was NOT the right call. He was injured and possibly dead. Joker was handed to us on a silver platter and you made us stand down!"

"It was my call. I made it. It's on me, not you." Bruce said. "Joker is brilliant and unpredictable. It could have been a trap. The whole thing could have been planned by him. You didn't know and we couldn't take that chance. You're not an oracle, Barbara."

Barbara visibly bristled at the comment. "That's what we do, Bruce! It wasn't a chance. It was a calculated risk. Dick and I have been trained by Batman. Doesn't that speak for itself? If we weren't good enough for the job we wouldn't be here. We've taken on metapowered supervillians but we can't approach a half dead ordinary man? Bullshit."

"The Joker isn't ordinary. He is our highest priority right now. We didn't get him tonight, but we will get him."

"Yeah, I'm sure that will be of great comfort to his next victim." Barbara stood up and stormed out of the room. Dick stood up and started to go after her.

"Dick, wait." Bruce said.

"What, Bruce? I need to go after her," Dick replied, obviously concerned. Barbara had been upset with Bruce before, but never like this.

"Let her cool off. I want a read from you on what happened tonight with her."

Dick ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He thought of Bruce's question for a few seconds before responding. "I guess she's frustrated. We've taken down some big bads before and this seemed like child's play compared to that. I was ready to go after him too. She feels you think we're incapable. And that allowed the one guy we want the most to get away."

"Will this...mentality...alter her effectiveness in the field? Full disclosure."

The entire Team was well trained in reading micro-expressions on people's faces. Dick knew he couldn't lie to Bruce even if he wanted to. "I honestly don't know. I've never seen her like this. We have fights, but she's never come close to that with you. She has a point. Ya gotta cut the cord sometime, man."

Bruce contemplated this for a few seconds. "I need you to observe her for the next few days. See if you can get a read and report back. I can't have her in the field if I can't trust her."

"Whoa, wait a minute there. I am not spying on my own girlfriend. You're the one with trust issues, not her."

"Dick, this is about her safety. Her head needs to be clear if she's going to do the job. Do you want her operating if she's not at full capacity?"

Bruce had a point and Dick reluctantly knew it. "No, I don't."

"Good, then do this. For her. Stay here tonight. Get some rest and let her cool down."

"Yeah... yeah I guess." Dick turned to Alfred, who had watched the whole exchange silently. "Alfred, I'll get some breakfast in the morning?"

"Of course, sir. It'll be my best omlette yet. Good night, Master Richard."

"Okay. Thanks, Alfred. Thanks, Bruce." Exhausted, Dick left for the penthouse and his room.

Bruce turned to Alfred. "Well?"

"Sir, I'm afraid that in these situations a cold, analytical demeanor is not what your students are looking for from you."

"My cold, analytical demeanor is what keeps us alive and effective. They're too young, too focused on ego. I was worse at that age. I remember. They'll be fine. It's nothing we can't handle."

"I pray you're right, sir. I pray you're right."