Part 6: From The Frying Pan
Dick Grayson woke in darkness. He couldn't tell whether it was night or day. He heard the low hum of an engine. The state of his stomach and the way the place was moving informed him that he was no longer on dry land, but on a ship. The movement of the ship also told him it was docked. Probably in the industrial section of Gotham Harbor,' he thought. 'Great Dick, you've been shanghaied.' He also felt cold. They had removed his shoes and socks, and most of his clothes, and that meant he had no phone or identification. His wrist monitor was also gone. 'Looks like you've got your work cut out for you.'
Dick explored the space he was in. Despite the fact that it was small, at least it was comfortable. He found himself lying on a bed anchored to the floor. There was a nightstand beside the bed, and not much else. He found that out when his toe ran into it in the most painful way. The room was nearly pitch black, the only light coming from under the door. A shadow moved across and he knew there was a guard outside.
'Not the same guard, I'm sure. I'm feisty, can't have someone falling asleep or I might escape,' Dick grinned mischievously. He waited for a few moments and sure enough, another shadow appeared next to the first. And the first moved off creating a wider band of light.
'Now that I know more about my situation, I better check out this room further. There's got to be something I can use to escape.'
Dick silently moved around the room, feeling walls. He found the light switch, but chose to keep it dark. He didn't want to alert his captures that he was awake, at least not just yet. He continued his searching until he ran into another door. It led to a small bathroom with a shower. He turned the light on to relieve the darkness. There wasn't much, some towels, a toothbrush, and a small tube of toothpaste, the kind someone might use when they travel. The only other items were a bar of soap and some shampoo.
'At least I can have a shower, but who would want to being locked up. There's got to be something around here so I can get a signal out to Batman.' Dick looked around the stateroom and found a magazine inside the nightstand. 'Must have been left there from the previous tenant,' he mused, 'But what can I do with this?' Dick tossed the magazine on the bed, trying to think. A sudden blast of cold air caused him to shiver when he looked up. An air vent? Dick climbed up on the bed and examined the vent. It was rather large for an air vent, large enough for a person.
'Fat lot of good that's going to do me. The cover is screwed on and I don't have any tools. And even if I could create one, it might alert the guard.'
Just then a noise at the door caused Dick to jump down and sit on the bed. Once again he could see two shadows at the door. Sure enough, light poured into the darkened room blinding him momentarily. Once his eyesight cleared, he could see two men standing in the doorway, one holding a tray and the other pointing a gun directly at him.
'Told you he'd be awake. And I bet he's hungry, too. Besides, I have instructions to keep him alive and in good health., It wouldn't be profitable if he were delivered half starved.'
Dick's stomach betrayed him at that moment. He was hungry, and if there was one thing he learned while working with Batman was you better have something to eat, especially while on stakeout. 'The growls of that stomach could wake the dead, let alone give us away,' Batman had said once. 'I can't help it, I'm a growing boy,' Robin had replied. Returning to his situation, 'I'll see what they have on the menu,' Dick thought.
The tray was placed on the nightstand. Dick didn't move a muscle with the other guard pointing his gun at him, just daring Dick to try to escape.
"Now you eat everything on your plate, or you don't get dessert," the man said.
'I wonder if I should tell him I'm not a kid,' Dick wondered, but thought better of it. 'Best let them think I'm still Bruce's ward and a little more helpless than I really am. Might throw them off guard.'
Dick realized he would always look younger than what he was. It was part of that boyish charm, but it was also why Batman still treated him more like a kid. 'I guess I still have to prove that I'm not. It wasn't going to be easy,' he thought. 'I need Batman, but I need to also prove I can do this myself. And maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. This ship maybe filled with innocent people in the same situation. And if I can signal Batman somehow, we could put a wrench in the Scorpion Clan's plans.' Dick realized it just wasn't about him. Now he had to make his own plans and escape, and to signal for help.
Looking closely at the magazine and what was on his food tray, Dick formed a plan. He took the knife they had given him and placed it under the mattress. The knife was useless as a weapon with its blunt, rounded end, but it was a perfect tool for something else.
Dick ate sparingly of the food. They probably drugged it to keep him compliant, but if he didn't eat, his stomach could give him away. Sure enough, he could feel himself getting sleepy. He forced himself to stay awake while he put the second part of his plan into action.
Taking the thicker magazine cover, he tore it and shaped it into a bat. Now he had to think about getting out of this prison cell and find a way to use his bat signal. For now, he hid the bat under the mattress with the knife. His jailer would be back to take his dishes away. The napkin came in handy to wrap up the flatware to hide the fact that the knife was missing. His hunger wasn't totally satisfied so he drank the rest of the milk. That would keep his stomach quiet. Unfortunately, to his detriment, the drug was in the milk. Within seconds he was falling asleep.
'Damn, should have realized . . .'
By the time he would wake up again, it would be day. He was going to have to find another way.
Continues with Part 7: And Into the Fire