Chapter 7
The next couple of days pushed Terry to his limits. The tasks Selina had him do weren't physically taxing on him, which probably made it so much more annoying when he failed. No, under Bruce Wayne's training, he could do two-hundred push-ups, leap across rooftops, dodge live ammunition. These things were hard, but eventually he would always get stronger and faster and be able to accomplish them. Selina's training required…skill. Silence. He couldn't just punch his way through a problem; he had to think his way through. Her tasks required timing, observation, and most of all, patience. Terry found he greatly lacked in that last one.
Finally, the night he'd been preparing for came.
Terry found himself sitting in the branches of a pine tree, rain beginning to fall around him. In the distance, he could hear thunder and see occasional flashes of lightning.
"I would like to note, if I get struck by lightning and electrocuted, the plan's a bust." Terry complained into the com link.
"Duly noted," came Bruce's dry reply.
"Also, if I catch a cold in this rain, my mother will never forgive you."
"Also noted. Follow the plan, McGinnis."
Selina rolled her eyes as Bruce muted the mic to the com link.
"Is there a way to ever make his mouth stop running?" she asked.
"If there is and you find it, let me know, will you?" Bruce replied, a hint of a smile on his face.
"You got it." Selina looked up at the monitor, an image of the boy's point of view on it. Beyond the pine branches and past a fence crowned with barbed wire, a lone brick warehouse sat. Dark figures definitely holding weapons moved along the roof and roamed the grounds surrounding the building. Her brow furrowed.
"You're worried about him." Bruce stated.
"Of course. I don't know much about him, but he seems like a good kid, Bruce." Selina replied.
"You haven't known him long," Bruce replied, a proud smile appearing on his face. "He's more capable than he appears."
"You're worried about him too." Selina stated. The old man didn't respond, a silent admission. Selena rolled up to him.
"And you remember what happened last time," she continued. It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
"Then let's get him out of this alive, shall we?" Selina smiled, and put a comforting hand on Bruce's. He returned the smile, and then turned back to the console.
The thunderstorm finally began to roll in. Terry quickly rubbed his hands for warmth, then got into a crouch.
"Show time," he said, waiting. His mind began to wander to his training earlier that week.
"For the last time, kid, the idea is not to dodge the paint pellets. The idea is not to be heard in the first place so I know where to throw them!" Selina admonished.
"There's not much of a choice! I can't glide all the way here from that warehouse without using my thrusters at least once!" Terry argued.
"Then make sure I don't hear them!" Selina shot back. "Has Bruce let you in on the plan yet?"
"Sneak in, steal the radioactive material or otherwise destroy it, get out," Terry replied.
"Right. I see why he leaves the plans to the adults."
"Hey!"
"I'm teasing, kid. Don't get in a fuss over it. Now think. The material's being stored in a warehouse outside of town. It's open ground all around it, then some forest. How are you getting in without being heard?" Selina prompted.
"I'll sneak under supplies, like you did."
"Tiger's Claw is onto that trick now, kid. Besides, you'd be too big and too heavy for the box. I barely pulled it off." Selina replied.
"I could glide to the building while using my cloaking, but they'll hear and see the thrusters."
"So don't use the thrusters."
"How am I supposed to get there? I can't glide that far. Not at the height you're talking about. And I can't walk; the cloaking only lasts so long before it drains the suit."
"I didn't say you couldn't use them at all, kid. Just make sure when you do use them that they're not heard." Selina advised.
A bolt of lightning flashed nearby. As the thunder rumbled, Terry's thrusters roared, unheard in the storm's din. He immediately shut them off. This would be the tricky part. He needed to glide across the open ground and make it to the building without being heard. The wind and darkness from the storm helped, but he couldn't rely on the thrusters at all.
He glided over the fence on a gust of wind, then over a guard, who held his hat down in the breeze, but otherwise showed no signs of noticing anything out of the ordinary. He was only thirty yard away…
…twenty… A guard sneezed, but didn't notice the invisible shadow gliding on the wind…
…ten… need to slow down, turn the gliders ever so slightly…get the claws out…
Terry stood on top of the abandoned Gotham warehouse, staring at the building where Selina sat. The height was about equal to the building he was on. Without the thrusters, there was no way he'd make it. Below him, the traffic light changed, and a particularly loud old truck began to move, its engine roaring as it struggled to come to life. Terry frowned at the distraction.
Then he smiled, inspiration hitting him.
He ran along the rooftops, following the noisy old truck. When it had a particularly bad backfire, he burst out with the thrusters, then immediately shut them off, heading for the building where Selina sat, gliding silently on the suit's wings.
It was working! It was working! He was finally going to sneak up on Gotham's greatest thief, tap her on the shoulder, and say…
The wall of the building filled his view.
"Slag it!" he cried out in a frustrated whisper. He scrambled to grab onto the building, the claws Selina had insisted on having installed on the costume gripping the brick. A few broken pieces of rubble fell to the street below, but the truck covered the noise. Carefully, Terry began to scale the last few feet to the rooftop. He peered over the top. Selina's back faced him. She hadn't moved at all.
Perfect. Terry thought. In complete silence he lifted himself onto the roof, then walked in the silent fashion Selina had taught him. He walked closer and closer…twenty feet…ten…he raised his hand to tap her on the shoulder…
SPLAT!
Thud!
Terry's body hit the wall with more force than he had realized. He held still, the claws dug firmly into the side of the wall. There was a guard below, maybe five yards away. His own heartbeat seemed ridiculously loud in his ears and he found himself holding his breath, waiting. No shouting, no alarm. The guards hadn't heard him then. Good. Just the same, Terry was glad for the suit's camouflage mode.
Carefully, he began to look around and assess his situation. He clung to the side of the warehouse's gray brick wall, at about the level of the second floor. About ten feet to his right was a window. Getting what little footing he could, he began to work his way—his agonizingly slow, quiet, and careful way- over to the window. Finally he reached the sill and peered inside. Empty. Perfect.
Using the claws, Terry cut a circle in the glass windows, then gently pulled the glass out and held it in the crook of his arm. Slowly, he reached inside, undid the latch, and lifted the window. No noise. That was the way. Careful. Slow. Silent. Use all the time in the world… and then the glass slipped from his arm.
"You were close, kid. Really close." Selina said, grinning as Terry wiped paint off his face. He was really starting to hate the splat noise the pellets made as they hit him. "You would have had me at a complete surprise had you not yelled 'Slag it' on your way over."
Terry frowned and continued wiping the paint off his face. So close. So very, very close.
"You know, that paint might be easier to get if you took the mask off." Selina suggested, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. Terry flashed her a look.
"No, thank you," he replied, forcing himself to stop wiping at the paint. Selina sighed, and pulled out a handkerchief.
"Here, kid. Clean yourself up," Selina said. As the teen began wiping his face, she asked in a casual voice, "So what's it like working for Bruce Wayne? You know, when he doesn't have you flying over the city and fighting terrorist organizations."
"Not bad. He just has me drive him around and do err-" Terry froze, the handkerchief still covering his face, realizing what he'd just said. "Oh, slag it!"
His lips closed tight over the swear words that wanted to leave his mouth, Terry's hand shot out and grabbed the glass, his other hand gripping the windowsill in a death grip. He stopped moving, not even daring to breathe, and carefully glanced around. No one had noticed. Good.
Cautiously, the boy lifted himself over the window sill, being careful not to drop or shatter the glass circle he held in his hand. Once he was through the window, he closed it against the storm behind him. The wind still rushed through the hole in the glass, but it wasn't as loud as the open window had been.
Turning off the suit's cloaking ability, Terry grinned and stared at the glass in his hand. Almost got me in trouble there, buddy.
A noise caused the boy to turn his head. He walked over to the door, pressing his fingers to it. The suit's auditory sensors began to pick up the voices on the other side.
"Thought I heard a noise down the hall. Gonna check it out," Terry heard. Then the door's latch began turning.
Terry stared at the glass in his hand, then at the bare, enclosed room before him.
"Slag it," he muttered under his breath.
Terry stared at the old woman, sitting in her chair, her cheek propped up with her arm, a knowing grin on her face.
"Now, kid, I'm not one to tell someone how to live their life," Selina began, " but if I was going to go up against a terrorist organization in a couple of days, and I had—I don't know—say a mother and a little brother…"
The Tomorrow Knight's eyes narrowed under his cowl. His grip on the handkerchief tightened.
"…maybe even a girlfriend waiting for me at home, I would most certainly learn to keep my mouth shut when I'm trying to sneak into said terrorist organization's stronghold." She finished.
Terry turned towards her, the glowing eyes of the cowl narrowed in anger, his hands in tight fists at his sides, the handkerchief gripped in one of them. This woman, no matter who she was, no matter what had happened to her, this woman dared to talk about his family…Angry threats, like what he would use against Gotham's criminal underworld, began to bubble to the surface of his mind.
"Point is, kid, you have people who care about you. People who love you." Selina looked down at her legs. This next part she said quietly. "So come back to them."
Whatever words had been about to fly out of Terry's mouth froze on his tongue. Instead, he gritted his teeth and nodded.
"This group isn't playing around. Whatever else you do, be silent. Don't do anything to give yourself away, even if you slip up. And be smart. Think on your feet. I want you to get out of there alive. For your family's sake if nothing else." Selina continued. "And quite frankly, if anything happens to you, that old man living in his bat-infested basement will be hell to live with, so…"
Terry let out a laugh.
"Yeah, that he would," he agreed, handing Selina back her handkerchief. She put it away.
"Now, go and try that again," she ordered. As Terry turned to go, she said, "Oh, and kid?"
Terry looked over his shoulder.
"If an old woman in a wheelchair can figure out where you live, it'll be a cinch for these guys. So do not get caught," she stated, a quiet intensity in her eyes, "Or it'll be your family that pays the price."
"Thought it came from in here."
"There's a storm going on. You might've heard something hit the window."
Two men entered the room, their faces covered by baklavas, both holding guns that looked like they were for more than hunting deer. They glanced around the room. It was bare, except for the window.
"See?" one of the men said, clapping the other on the shoulder. "There's nothing here, the window's closed, nothing to worry about."
The other man took a few steps into the room, glancing around as he did so. He stopped a few feet from the window, glanced outside quickly, then shrugged.
"Guess you're right," he said, then turned with his partner and left the room.
Terry let out a slow breath after the door shut. He looked down at himself, watching his body become visible as the suit's cloaking went out. That had been close. Had that guy walked any closer to the window, he would've collided into Terry. Cloaking or no, there was no way the guy would've missed that. He looked at his hand, still holding the piece of glass perfectly in place in its spot in the window. Slowly, he lowered it to the ground, then crept to the door and listened. The two voices were getting fainter. Terry let out a sigh of relief, then glanced at the room's air duct. Hopefully, it would lead where he wanted to go.
Quietly, the teen got to work, unscrewing the grate, then crawling inside. Closing the vent behind him proved difficult, but he managed to do it. His wide shoulders barely fit, but he managed. How Selena had managed to do this all the time back in the day was beyond him. Heck, just the silence was getting on his nerves, let alone the cramped space. He couldn't remember the last time he went without talking for so long…
"McGinnis?"
Terry nearly screamed. After being so long in silence, Bruce's quiet voice in his ear sounded cacophony.
"Jeebs! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Terry whispered.
"Sorry. You were supposed to check in two minutes ago. Are you in?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm in. A couple of goons decided to check on a noise. I had to wait for them to leave before I could move."
"Where are you?" Bruce asked.
"Ventilation system. Some room on the second floor, southern side of the building."
"Got it. Give me a minute." Terry could hear Bruce typing on the console. "Okay, you need to head towards the hallway, and then go left. You'll see a vertical shaft. Take it up. We'll start with the third floor and work our way down."
"Alright," Terry whispered and began following the directions. Once he finished crawling up the shaft, he reached out to Bruce on the com link. "Wayne, I'm here. Where do I go?"
"Go straight, then follow the second shaft on your right. There's an old server room they might be using."
"Got it," Terry answered, following the directions. He peered through the grate to make sure he had the right room…then slowly backed his way out of the shaft.
"Wayne!" he whispered sharply, once he was back in the main air shaft. "We have a problem!"
"What is it?"
"That was definitely the server room. But it was full of guards."
"That could be expected, given what they-"
"That's the problem! I checked. There's nothing for them to be guarding in there, just some dusty old computers that haven't been touched." Terry answered. "And it gets worse."
"How?"
"Those guards were watching the air vent. We've been had."
