Helga stood in the bathroom stall, tapping her foot with growing impatience. Robin had led her in here, and upon finding a nearby vent large enough to squeeze through, decided to do a little snooping and asked Helga to wait there.
That was half an hour ago.
"Psst, Helga," she heard a voice whisper.
Helga peeked beneath the stall, and after not seeing anyone in the room, opened the door and headed towards the direction of the voice. She found Robin behind the grate of the air vent, anxiously beckoning to come closer. "What'd you find out?" she whispered.
"Well, apparently your pal Arnold has somehow managed to escape."
"YES!" Helga cheered with a pump of her arm. "Now all that's left to do is get the heck outta here."
"Right," Robin agreed as he started pushing open the vent cover. "Now get in-" He was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching their location. "Quick, hide!" he urged as he moved back into the darkness of the ventilation shaft.
Helga dashed behind one of the stalls and pressed back against it. She lifted her legs and propped them against the wall, suspending her above the floor. The door to the bathroom opened, and the sound of light footsteps headed towards the stall.
"I'm well aware of young Shortman's escape father," said the voice attached to the footsteps.
Helga recognized it as belonging to the woman she had met when she first arrived. Talia, wasn't it?
"As far as I know, he is unaware of the plane his parents will be boarding, but I think it would be safe to add a little extra security to the area, just in case." There was a brief pause. "As far as I know, Mr. Nigma was captured and swiftly executed."
Helga gasped then slapped a hand over her mouth.
There was another brief pause. "Father, I will contact you later. Good-bye."
Helga heard footsteps heading towards her location.
"Well, well, well," said Talia upon discovering the young woman before her. "You are going back to your cell, Ms. Pataki," she hissed, reaching for her side pistol.
BAM!
The vent next to Talia flew open, and it, along with both of Robin's feet, connected with the woman, smashing her against the stall and into unconsciousness. "What he saw in her, I'll never know," he said under his breath.
"Thanks for the save there, Birdie," said Helga as she slid down to the floor and got back on her feet.
"Don't mention it. Now we've got to get out of here quickly. All that noise would've alerted some of the guards." Robin hopped inside the vent and crawled through the shaft with Helga close behind.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Edward Nigma asked Arnold for the second time during their trek through the jungle.
"I already told you, yes."
The two had been walking for nearly an hour now, and to Edward, it almost seemed like they were going around in circles. "I'm certain we've passed that same tree at least three times, already."
"They're trees," Arnold grumbled. "They all look the same."
"Ah, but only to the untrained eye." Nigma approached the tree in question and poked at an area of moss with his cane. "Notice the moss on the side,"
"I was a Campfire Lad. I know that moss grows on the north side of a tree," Arnold stated, rolling his eyes.
"Impressive, but not what I was getting at. Notice the spiraling pattern of the moss; how it curves down the tree like a furry, red serpent."
Arnold side and placed his hands on his hips. "What's the point, Ed?"
"My point," Edward began as he approached his young companion, "is that we've passed the same. Damn. TREE." He held up three fingers. "Thrice."
"Well then, why don't YOU lead the way?" Arnold remarked after a long sigh.
"As I mentioned earlier, I don't know how to get back to the hotel from here," Edward shrugged and glanced around. "I'm not even sure what part of the jungle we're in."
"Well, you're the one telling me I keep walking us around in circles."
Edward thought for a moment then shrugged his shoulders again. "I suppose I could give it a shot." He brushed past Arnold and made a left into the jungle. "So, tell, if you don't mind…," he replied as he cut through the overgrowth in his path, "how did you and Helga meet?"
"I'm surprised she didn't tell you herself. I met her on our first day of preschool. She was standing outside of the building, covered in mud and in the rain, and I let her underneath my umbrella."
"That was nice of you," Edward remarked.
"Yeah, I was always pretty helpful."
"What happened?" Edward asked dryly.
Boy, did that piss the young man off. "My parents were fucking kidnapped, that's what happened!" he shouted angrily.
Edward stopped and turned to look at Arnold. "What's the matter with you, kid? Why are you so angry at the world? From what Helga described, you'd think you were Christ, Himself."
"How many times do I have to explain it?" Arnold hissed. "My. Parents. Are. GONE!"
Edward rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Ohhh," he cooed mockingly, "does wittle Ahnold miss his mommy and daddy? Does him need a diaper change?" Arnold roared and swung a fist at the taunting man in front of him. Edward hopped back, hooked the end of his cane around Arnold's ankle, and yanked him off his feet. Before the enraged youth could get back up, Edward held him down with the other end of his cane. "All Helga wants to do is help you, you idiot."
"Helga didn't come here to help me. She came here because she can't move on with her life like a normal human being."
Edward brought his cane across Arnold's face and leaned down close. "If Helga Pataki could have given her life so you could be with your parents, she would have."
Arnold, not knowing what to say, just stared at him.
Edward got up and brushed himself off. "Now let's get going."
Arnold wiped a trail of blood from his lip and got up. He looked Edward Nigma dead in the eye and then nodded. Edward led the way.
Two of Ra's Al Ghul's elite guard entered the bathroom where Robin and Helga had made their escape. Talia had informed them of their attack on her and gave them strict orders to deal with the matter in whatever way they saw fit.
"There," said one of the guards, pointing to an open air vent at the far end of the room.
The other one nodded and they made their way to investigate. The first guard peered inside the vent. "They haven't been in there long. Hand me a grenade."
The other guard reached into a satchel hanging at his side and produced a small hand grenade. He tossed it his partner.
"You might want to cover your ears," the guard with the grenade said. "This will be loud."
"I know," said the other guard, pointing a gun at the other one's head. He pulled the trigger and his "friend's" brain matter splattered inside the vent. He then lifted the dead guard and hefted him into the shaft, pushing him deep inside for good measure. Then he holstered his pistol and headed for the exit. Another guard entered the room.
"What was that noise?" he asked curiously and was met with a knife plunged deep into his right lung. The guard tried to scream for help, but it only came out as a shrill gasp.
His assailant twisted the knife for good measure then pulled it out and tossed his victim into a bathroom stall. He wiped the blade of on a nearby roll of paper towels and then sheathed it. He walked out of the room, trying his best to act casual in front of the other guards. 'Thank goodness they all wear ski masks and goggles,' he thought to himself. He heard someone from around the corner mention something about the Shortmans and flattened against the wall to eavesdrop.
"They will be boarding the plane shortly," one said. "The Lady has requested extra security, so look for anyone willing to guard the Shortmans and escort them safely to their plane.
This was PERFECT!
He stepped out from behind the corner, whistling nonchalantly.
"You there," the guard he had eavesdropped on shouted and pointed at him. "What is your current assignment?"
The traitor shrugged.
"You have been assigned to safely escort Miles and Stella Shortman to their plane at the Santiago Hotel." He pointed to the guard at his right. "Hazier will accompany you to your mission objective. Do you understand?"
The traitor nodded.
"Dismissed then."
The other guard, Hazier, made his way towards the traitor and motioned for him to follow. The traitor just hoped he had packed enough explosives for what he had planned.
The grate on the side of the building flew from its vent and hit the ground. Robin hopped down from out of the shaft and looked around for nearby sentries. "Coast is clear," he told Helga.
The young woman emerged from the opening in the building and hopped out. She stretched and popped her back. "Criminey, I thought we were never getting outta there!" she remarked.
"We're almost there," Robin said as he pointed to a twenty foot tall wall surrounding the complex. "All that's left now is to-"
"The prisoners!" a voice from atop the wall interrupted.
"Damn," Robin hissed under his breath and slowly backed towards Helga. Two dozen or so guards came out from around the corners of the building, attempting to surround the duo. "Find a way over that wall while I hold them off!" he cried as he removed a metal rod from his utility belt. He swung it to his side, and the rod extended into a seven foot long pole.
Helga ran towards a ladder on the wall, front-flipping over the guards in her path, and then swept her leg out behind her in an arc that floored several of them. She climbed up the wall and turned towards the battle between Robin and the horde of Ra's Al Ghul's henchman. He was holding his own pretty damn well.
The first five guards who approached were met with a pole to the face as Robin kicked his weapon towards them. The pole bounced off of the foreheads of the five thugs, and he caught it and brought it around behind him to strike at another attacker. He whirled the pole in front of him with blinding speed, scattering Ghul's elite guard left and right. An enemy from behind managed to wrap his arms around the Boy Wonder in an attempt to crush him in a massive bear hug. Two other men approached the struggling boy, their intent to strike him while he was being held. He brought his feet up, kicking the assailants in the face, and then reached into his utility belt and pulled out his grappling gun. He fired it at the roof of the complex, and the grapple began reeling him in, tearing the young hero from the grasp of his attacker. Reaching the roof, he produced several smoke bombs from his belt and hurled them down into the crowd of armed men below. He leaped into the cloud of smoke, and Helga heard the sounds of several grown men hitting the floor. She even observed a few of them flying out of the smoke cloud and skidding along the ground.
She was too busy admiring the young man's handiwork and didn't notice the woman behind her until she felt the press of cold steel against the back of her head.
"Stand down, young detective," the woman shouted behind Helga, "or I kill the girl!"
Helga slowly put her hands in the air, then spun around and slapped the gun out Talia's hand, disarming the startled young woman. She leaped back.
"How are you so fast?" Talia asked in admiration.
Helga shrugged. "I drink plenty of juice and eat all my veggies."
"Cute," Talia grinned, "but you should have remained in your cell." She swung her right leg at Helga, connecting with the side of her face and almost knocking the young woman clear off the wall.
Helga managed to remain steady and rubbed her face. "Not bad," she replied, delivering a kick of her own that caught Talia square in the chest, "but you should've stayed with daddy."
Talia staggered back and glared angrily at her opponent. She attempted another kick which Helga caught, then Talia came back at her with her other leg which smashed into Helga's ribs. The younger fighter nearly toppled over the wall, but was able to brace herself on the railing. Talia leapt at her, hands tightening around her enemy's throat, and attempted to force her over the wall. "Did you honestly believe you could defeat me all by yourself, child?" she taunted.
"Welp…," Helga gasped, "…I've still got back-up."
Talia laughed. "The boy is too preoccupied by my soldiers to come to your rescue, little girl."
"Not him…"
Talia raised an eyebrow. "Who then?"
"Ol' Betsy." Helga lifted her fist and slammed it right into the older woman's jaw. Talia released her grip on Helga and staggered backwards in a daze. "And the Five Avengers!" Helga finished, launching her other fist into an uppercut that nearly lifted her opponent clear off the ground. Talia fell to her knees in a daze and looked up at Helga, who was towering over her with her fists clenched. "Want some more, bitch?" the young woman taunted.
Talia glared at her and spit blood onto Helga's dress.
"Good," Helga replied as she grabbed the older woman by the back of the head and brought it down, face-first, onto her knee. There was a loud crack, and Talia slumped to the floor, unconscious. Helga looked over to see Robin pole-vaulting up to the top of the wall behind her. She looked back at her unconscious opponent. "She ain't pretty no more."
Robin let out a whistle and stood next to Helga. "You sure did a number on her. Let's get out of here before she wakes up."
Helga scoffed. "After an ass-whooping of that caliber, she'll be out for a loooooong time."
Robin chuckled. "Well then, let's get out of her before more generic thugs show up."
Helga turned to look at him and smiled.
Damn, that smile! It melted Tim's heart and caused his senses to go wild. She was incredible. She had defeated Talia Al Ghul in single, hand-to-hand combat. That was no easy feat; Talia was renowned as one of the best martial artists in the world, having even gone toe-to-toe with Batman on more than one occasion. Helga had the potential to be the next Batgirl - hell, the next WONDER WOMAN!
Robin was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Helga's foot tapping impatiently against the floor. "Oh! Damn…did I go all zombie on you again?" Helga nodded. "S-sorry…."
"C'mon, Boy Blunder," Helga giggled and took Robin by the hand, leading him towards a ladder on the opposite side of the wall. "Let's get going."
"S-S-Sure," the teen crime-fighter stammered. "I'm not always like this, y'know."
"Suuuurrre you're not," his female companion teased.
"Really, I'm not."
Helga couldn't hold back her laughter.
Edward Nigma had been leading their journey for over half an hour now, and Arnold had to admit that the scenery was beginning to look different. Every once in a while, Edward would halt their progress and stoop down to investigate the area. Along the way, he would preach to Arnold about how "a mystery is just like a puzzle: you have to look at it from every conceivable angle," and Arnold would just roll his eyes. He didn't care about Edward Nigma's line of work. He was no detective, so what did it matter? All he cared about at the moment was finding his parents. To hell with Edward Nigma's lectures.
"We're getting closer," Edward told his companion.
"It's about damn time," Arnold grumbled.
Edward sneered and rolled his eyes. He just couldn't get through to young man because he was so full of bitterness. Of hate. It strangely reminded Edward of himself at Arnold's age. Young Edward Nigma was a boy driven by hate and by rage, fueled by a burning desire to prove himself to those around him. To his friends…his father…even himself. All his life, he had been told he was nothing by the man who should have loved him. At least most parents had the drink as an excuse. His father would beat him ragged even when stone-cold sober. His only escape had always been in the farthest reaches of his mind. In his puzzles. How he loved his puzzles! He would spend days, sometimes weeks, working on a new puzzle in order to test the wits of his fellow classmates and even his teachers. Only on rare occasions had his puzzles been solved by someone other than himself.
Then one day, his father had found them.
"What the fuck is this shit?" he had screamed. "You think you're fucking smarter than me?"
"Dad, please," Edward had pleaded.
"This is for the woman you killed, you little shit!"
"N-No, dad I-"
Then the iron came. He would scream and scream as his father burned him and beat him with that red-hot iron. The woman in question, the one whose death Edward's father blamed him for, was his mother. His mother had died during childbirth, and ever since then, his father had had it out for him. Edward still had scars on his body from the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his sadistic parent. The kids at school were no better. He used to be a kind, gentle child. The puzzles and tests he gave the other children were just his way of finding a kindred spirit. Someone like him. Someone he could share an intelligent conversation with. More often than not, they would end with his beating at the hands of a bully.
When his father wasn't home (which was rare), Edward would lie in his bed, crying. His father's abuse would have a dramatic impact on his adult life. His mind had driven the memories of his childhood far away from his recollection. They would still emerge, however, in the form of his obsession with leaving behind the riddles he was so famous for at the scenes of his crimes. At first, he had shrugged it off as his way of testing the local police department as well as the Batman, but once, when Edward attempted to commit a crime without leaving a clue in the form of a riddle in his wake, he had realized just how wrong he was.
It took many years, but Edward had finally been able to conquer his madness. He turned over a new leaf, so to speak, and hired himself off as a private investigator. Yes, things were going well for the reformed supervillain…but unfortunately, his past had damaged him more than he had originally believed. Due to the violent and hateful nature of his father, as well as his fellow students, he had slowly grown to believe that maybe, just maybe, no one would ever really love him. He still had those fears today. Oh sure, there were women he had slept around with - Query and Echo (his former assistants) - but he never truly loved them, as they never truly loved him. It was the lifestyle that they were in love with. They were addicted to it, but they never actually loved him.
This provided a good explanation for Edward's inflated ego. If nobody else loved, why not love himself? And he did love himself, to be sure (at least most of the time). He was always one of those people who would have a drink with themselves. Sadly, he had never made any kind of connection with other women. Not that he was gay, by any means. During his life of crime he often enjoyed the more…physically aspects of what his fortune could offer him, but he wasn't happy. Not really.
"Are we gonna keep moving or are you just going to stand there all day?" Arnold asked, clearly annoyed.
Edward scowled and turned his back on him. He lifted his blade and continued cutting into the jungle.
Stella Shortman's hand was sweating profusely as it gripped her husband's palm. The two of them were on their way to a plane which would take them to the fortress of Ra's Al Ghul. The Shortmans weren't stupid. They were well aware of Ghul's negative operations he had running besides the positive ones he assigned to her and her husband. Still, there was no way out of their agreement. Years ago, the two had pledged their allegiance to the Demon's Head and were given the opportunity to help those in need. Sadly, they were forced to leave their only son with his grandparents, Miles' parents. It broke her heart to do it, and she could always tell that Miles felt the same way, but if they hadn't, Ra's Al Ghul would have surely enacted a swift and deadly punishment. She leaned against her husband's arm, feeling the warmth of his body against her cheek. "I'm scared, Miles."
Her husband gripped her hand tighter. "Me, too, baby, me too, but we have to do this…for Arnold."
Years ago, they had finally been reunited with their beloved son in the jungles of San Lorenzo. Their pride-and-joy had later decided to come live with them, a mistake his parents now deeply regretted. They should have warned him, told him to stay away. However, now it was too late. A tear slid down Stella's face as she and her husband marched alongside over a dozen armed guards.
"We have arrived," one of them stated.
The couple was lead towards an airplane resting on a landing strip near the Santiago Hotel. The two shared a kiss before heading up the stairway into the plane.
Nobody noticed when one of the guards broke formation for a split-second and slapped an explosive beneath the wing of the plane.
Helga and Robin sat in a clearing in the middle of the jungle, contemplating their next move. Robin had originally suggested that the two of them hop in his jet and take the young woman home. She completely dismissed the idea though. She absolutely refused to leave Arnold behind and insisted that they look for him first. She told him of the plane Arnold's parents were boarding, and Robin immediately concluded that that would be the first place Arnold would go. "That is," he had added, "assuming he knows about it."
Helga pondered for a moment. "Well, if he's with Eddie, then I'm sure he knows by now."
"How do you know Eddie even knows about it?"
"I just do," Helga shrugged.
Robin stood up and stretched. "Well, I guess we could try meeting him at the hotel. If he shows up, we can grab him, save his parents, and take off."
Helga flashed him a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan, but," she turned around, examining the area, "I'm not even sure where the hell we are."
"I've got a satellite GPS navigation system built into my costume," Robin plainly informed. "I can get us there in a flash."
Helga rolled her eyes. "How many toys do you have, anyway?"
"Lots."
"Well then," Helga began, getting up, "let's get going. If I know Arnold," and she wasn't really sure if she did anymore these days, "then he's probably halfway there by now."
Robin opened the GPS unit in his glove and pushed a few buttons. "That way," he pointed east.
The two hurried into the jungle, Robin leading the way with his GPS and a blade from his utility belt used to cut down foliage.
"Uh, hey," Helga tapped Robin on the shoulder. "You wouldn't happen to have a pack of smokes in that belt of yours, would ya?"
"We're being followed."
Arnold stopped and looked around. "By who?" he asked.
Edward Nigma's eyes darted around the jungle, searching for some sign of their pursuer. "Not sure. Just keep acting casual; we don't want to alert him."
"Why not?"
Edward gave a little sigh. "Because if he suspects that we know he's following us, he might try to attack."
"Better to fight him here than around my parents where their lives would be endangered," Arnold reasoned.
Edward shook his head. "We can fight him once we catch up to Robin and Helga. Four against one are better odds"
"Yeah, but what are the chances of that happening?"
"I've been taking my time a little and drifting slightly towards where they might have escaped. If I'm as good of a detective as I think I am, and I am, then hopefully we'll be running into them soon."
Arnold stopped. "You've been slowing us down this whole time, and you didn't tell me?" he growled.
"I thought if I told you what I was doing, you'd over-react."
Arnold turned around, looking up into the trees for their pursuer. "WE KNOW YOU'RE THERE!" he shouted. "COME ON OUT AND FACE ME!"
"Damn it, Arnold," Edward mumbled under his breath.
The duo heard a rustling in the trees behind them, and a black, muscular, blonde-haired figure leaped down from the trees. "The two of you are coming with me," he stated plainly. "Now."
Edward hustled towards Arnold, extending his arm defensively in front of the boy. "David Cain." He sneered and looked at Arnold. "Get out of here. I'll hold him off for as long as I can."
Arnold was nearly refused, but upon closer examination of the assassin before him, he decided to heed Edward's warning and nodded, darting into the jungle.
"The Riddler," Cain noted, unimpressed. "Killing someone as unworthy as you will give me no pleasure whatsoever."
Edward snarled and unsheathed the blade hidden in his cane. "You clearly have never faced an opponent of my intellect."
Cain chuckled and drew a combat knife from the bandolier strapped to his chest. "Let's put that intellect to the test."
So far everything had gone better than originally planned. It was a little project of his that he had been working on for around five years now, and things were running smoother than he believed possible. He slapped another explosive beneath the cock-pit and headed back for the passenger section. He brushed past another guard and considered killing him before leaving.
"Too sloppy," he thought to himself as he exited the plane. Beside, no one would be left alive after the C4 he had planted everywhere had gone off. He stealthily broke free from the watchful eyes of the other sentries and headed into the jungle.
He stumbled over a stray log and saw his partner, another disguised Ghul guard, waiting for him by a tree. "Did you plant the explosives?"
The traitor nodded.
"Good. Now let us pay a little visit to the Demon's Head himself."
The traitor nodded excitedly and trailed after his partner. It was time to pay a little visit to Ra's Al Ghul.