Batman: Raiders of the Tree of Life
Chapter 7: Castle by the Sea
When Nightwing arrived back at the apartment, Watchman and Marie-Clare were already waiting for him. Watchman had already transformed back into Anna Turner and was sitting on the long couch with an ice pack on her temple. Marie-Clare was bandaging Anna's wounded ankle as he stepped through the window and into the living room.
Tossing his gear on the floor, Nightwing smirked at the two women. "Well that was fun."
Marie-Clare snorted. "Hardly. Anna's pretty banged up."
"That tends to happen when you're having a good time," Nightwing shrugged. "You're doing a marvelous job with the wrappings," he added inspecting the dressing on Anna's ankle, "tell me, do you have a thing for mummies?"
"Very funny. You're next." Marie-Clare glared at him.
"No thanks. I'm beat."
"My point exactly."
Nightwing yawned and waved his hand dismissively. "Mummy doesn't look good on me."
He made a move to enter his room but Marie-Clare blocked his path and ordered him to sit down. Too tired to bother resisting her, he walked over to the couch and sat down next to Anna. They had a brief argument about removing his mask so Marie-Clare could clean a cut on his cheek. He didn't want to reveal his identity, but in the end, he let her take it off. He didn't trust her, but he realized the he had already met her as Dick Grayson back at the Vatican. She already knew who he was.
Marie-Clare pulled off the shirt of his uniform and inspected the black and blue bruising pattern along his side. Dick made a joke about it matching his Nightwing uniform; being "skin tight in all". Anna massaged her forehead and mumbled something about bad puns as she moved the ice pack from her head to his chest. He flinched.
"So, did those guys in the sedan give you the information you wanted, or were you all too dead?" asked Anna leaning back against the couch and folding her arms over her chest.
"They told me that Batman is being held at Bonechelli Castle on the Italian Riviera," answered Dick.
"It may be a trap," said Anna thoughtfully.
"Maybe. But it's all I have to go on right now."
"And did they tell you who they are?" asked Marie-Clare as she dabbed at the cut on his face with an antiseptic.
"No. All they told me is that they have sworn to stop your organization and, by extension, Batman. Now, are you going to tell me what you really are? And what the 'bent cross' is?" asked Dick. Exhaustion and suspicion was overriding his usually banter and Tom-foolery.
"We are The Organization. We are mostly a combination of spies and archeologists looking for ancient powers. The 'bent cross' is out standard. That's all I can tell you for now," said Anna.
"Well that's a lot of information," muttered Dick sarcastically.
"Speaking of information, do you still have the rubbing you made of the marker?"
"Sure." He pulled it out of the chest pocket from the lining of his costume and handed it to Anna. She looked over everything with mild interest. He thought that was a little curious. He had been expecting her to study it carefully for the clues that would lead them to the second marker. After her cursory inspection, Anna folded the paper haphazardly and stuffed it in her robe pocket. She sighed and leaned back against the cushions once more.
"You two should get some rest," Marie-Clare pronounced as she finished wrapping gauze around Dick's bruised ribs. "If you're going after Batman tomorrow, you'll need energy."
"And where are you going?" asked Dick.
"Back to the sisters. They may have noticed I left." Maire-Clare left the apartment with all the grace and dignity of a woman of faith.
Dick levered himself off the couch and made his way to his bedroom door. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to see Anna gazing up at him with her large dark eyes. Something inside him flared at her touch, but he squashed it. He didn't need to get involved with a woman he couldn't trust.
"Let me stay with you tonight," she pleaded, "after everything that happened, I don't want to be alone."
"I think it would be best if you went back to your own room," he said flatly.
"I thought…I thought maybe you and I had a connection. Didn't you feel it out there tonight? Don't you trust me? I thought I proved myself. You did when you saved me."
"Yeah, I trusted you out there," he admitted, "or more, I wanted to. It's been so long since I had someone to watch my back; I missed it. So yeah, I let myself trust you and banter because we were working together. But you and me? Were on different missions. And you still haven't told me enough about yours for me to trust you any further."
He pulled her hands off his shoulders and stepped into his room. Anna followed him.
"I told you my mission. It's to save my great-grandfather. He's my only family," said Anna. "I thought you understood."
"But what's his mission? Why are there people so desperate to stop him from finding the Tree of Life?" Dick demanded.
"His mission is to live," Anna insisted, "if you knew a way to live on and see your great-great grandchildren, wouldn't you take it?"
"No. I'll die when my time comes. And then I'll see my parents and Barbra again," answered Dick.
"I see."
Anna moved to join him on the bed. "Just let me stay here. Maybe you're not afraid of anything, but I am. And I trust you."
"Watchman is afraid of something?" he teased. He couldn't resist.
"Shut up, Dick."
He let her crawl into bed beside him. Anna pulled the sheets up over her shoulders and snuggled down. Dick reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. Then he curled up as close the other edge of the bed as he could. Part of him wanted to turn around and cuddle with her, but the more logical part of his brain told him that would be a mistake. Anna wasn't the enemy as far as he knew, but neither was she to be trusted. Things were complicated. They always were.
Dick felt a soft but strong arm slide around his waist. He froze. Anna was warm against him. He knew the smart thing to do was to push her away. But part of him wouldn't let him. It had bee to long since there was someone to hold him. Not since Barbra was…so he didn't. Dick let Anna hold him, but he didn't turn to face her. She seemed fine with that and laid her head against his back.
The next morning, Dick woke up an hour or so after the sun. He moved Anna's head off his chest gently and got up. His ribs were more sore this morning than they had been last night. He didn't want to stand up, or do anything for that matter. Even breathing hurt. Gingerly, he bent over to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he saw the purple-ish black patchwork of bruises on his chest and side; it was a depressing sight. Dick groaned. Ouch.
The hot water and steam were the best thing and the worst thing at the moment. His stiff muscles began relaxing, but little cuts and bruises on his skin stung under the hot water. It was a pleasant sort of unpleasantness. He spent longer than he needed to under the water and steam. After too short a time, he reluctantly turned the water off, dried himself, and pulled on his clothes. Batman was waiting for him somewhere on the Riviera.
After Anna was up and dressed, they got a rental car and headed for Bonechelli Castle. Over the radio, a reporter was regaling the people of Italy with the story, or part of the story, of last night's caper. The Bishop's damaged car was mentioned. Fortunately, his excellency vowed to "turn the other cheek" and hope that the vandals would come to their senses and repent. Dick looked a little sheepish. Repent? Yeah, he was sorry about stealing the car, but not sorry he wasn't gunned down in the street by mad men. Was a wrong ever a right? Lines were getting more and more blurry as he got older.
"There's the castle," said Anna as they pulled up at a respectful distance from Bonechelli Castle, "if we're looking for Batman, do you want to go in as Nightwing or Dick Grayson the idiot tourist?"
"Dick Grayson is not an idiot tourist," said Dick indignantly, "he's a charming tourist."
"Tell that to the waitress you spilled the Ketupat on."
"It was a very slippery Ketupat bottle," he defended himself. He laughed as Anna rolled her eyes at him. Sobering quickly however, he decided, "I'll go in as Nightwing. It's a little harder to explain Dick Grayson snooping around a ruined castle."
"I'm sure you could come up with some ridiculous story," said Anna.
"Oh sure, I'd just tell everyone I'm thinking of putting in carpeting and air conditioning. Think anyone would buy it?" he slipped into the back seat to change.
"No." Anna began putting on her own costume, careful of her injured ankle. She could walk on it, but only with extreme discomfort. She laughed when she turned around to see Nightwing wearing his Indiana Jones hat. What a dork, she thought. But a very cute dork. Pity he was walking into a trap.
They raced towards the looming ruined castle by the sea. The large white stones were breaking apart and the place looked deserted. Hardly a good place to hold a prisoner like Batman, but then, looks could be deceiving. Slipping past the nearly invisible security precautions, Nightwing and Watchman scaled the side of the castle wall with their ascension cables. Once on the top of the wall, they leapt down into the courtyard. In the daylight, their dark costumes didn't give them any camouflage, so they had to be extremely cautious.
Inside, they ran into several security officers who Nightwin took down quickly and quietly. Watchman pulled up at one of the computers and accessed the security cameras.
"They're holding Batman under-ground in the old dungeons," she informed her partner.
"Nice to know. How do we get him out?"
"The cells are old. They'll most likely have old fashioned keys. But if they've managed to keep Batman here for so long, there must be other measures to prevent breakouts."
"Good points. Do you see the way we get down there?"
"Yes. Down the hall, two lefts, a right, and down a long flight of stairs. Two floors below us."
"Great. I'll scout ahead," said Nightwing. He left the computer room, leaping over two guards he had taken out, and flew down the hall.
"Wait, we should stick together," Watchman called after him, but it was pointless. She sighed. The guy had a death wish, she was sure of it.
Nightwing flew through the old castle as fast as he could. The cold stone walls and floor were apt to echo his footfalls, but he was a professional. His feet were as light as there were fast. He ran into two more guards and he took them out like a phantom.
As he got deeper into the castle and closer to the dungeons, the air grew thicker, colder, and darker. It reminded him of the catacombs and he shivered. All he had to do was grab Bruce and get out. Simple. He charged down a long winding staircase and raced down the hall towards the cell blocks. Nightwing halted abruptly in front of an occupied cell. There he was; Batman. At last.
"Nightwing?" said Bruce in disbelief.
"Dr. Jones actually," said Dick tipping his hat, "and you must be Batman."
Ok. It was certainly Nightwing/Dick standing before him. Mirages don't make jokes. "You shouldn't be here," Bruce informed him.
"Nice to see you too."
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm the building inspector and this cell is not up to code."
"Not funny."
"Geezes Bats, I'm here to rescue you," said Dick flippantly. He scanned the halls for the keys.
"Get out of here," Bruce warned him, "just leave me and get out while you still have the…" He cut himself off and his eyes narrowed as Watchman rounded the corner of the detention hall.
"Nightwing, I found the keys," said Watchman triumphantly. She walked down the hall and gave them to Dick. "Hurry, this place gives me the creeps."
"Yeah, me too," Nightwing agreed. He began to unlock the cell door and pull it open.
"Nightwing, look out!" shouted Batman frantically. But his warning came too late. Watchman shoved Nightwing into the cell with Batman and slammed the door locking them both in. Watchman, Anna Turner, was a traitor.
