Part 9

In Pennsylvania Batman was finishing with the local police, the drivers and their guards were all in custody. Done deal, time to go home. Though he likely wouldn't say anything, he was proud of the way Dick had handled the case.

The boy he'd taken in, raised, trained and given focus to had become his own man and a successful one, at that.

He steered the big car back to Gotham, the night's busts done, dawn starting to show on the horizon as he drove east. He was tired but knew he'd have to show up at Wayne headquarters first thing in the morning, show his face, reassure the employees and shareholders. They had to know that everything would be put back to normal as soon as was humanly possible. He should have been there while the fire was burning and some plausible excuse would have be made but that would be tomorrow. For now things were in reasonable shape. All things considered.

And Dick would be fine. Leslie was checking to make sure that the OD wouldn't have any lasting effects. He hoped.

In fact Bruce was more worried about this than he'd let on to either Dick or Alfred. Though he knew Dick wold have looked things up himself, the facts were that there could be long lasting and serious effects from the OD he'd been forced into.

That Dick had survived the amount of cocaine was a feat in itself; it could have killed him outright, damaged his heart, caused him to have a stroke or other complications. Long term problems could include severe organ damage. His heart, liver, lungs, brain and kidneys could be affected. He could have extensive damage to his intestines, his digestive tract, bladder. Beyond that the drug could cause changes in the way a person thinks, feels and reacts even after the drug is a distant memory. The possibility of psychosis, panic attacks, body tremors or delusions could still be down the road for Dick.

All they could do was keep a close watch on him, make sure that he was aware of the possibilities and hope for the best.

But, with any luck, soon everything would be back to normal. And would stay that way.

'Normal' being a relative term, of course.

Three months later

When the dust settled, it ended that most of the drugs got through, some were stopped, some arrests were made but...

Wayne HQ burned, eleven people who were trapped couldn't get out, were dead. The building wasn't destroyed but the damage to roughly a third of the floors was severe. In addition there was extensive water and smoke damage which would have to be addressed. The building inspectors were determining if the structure could be repaired or would have to be demolished and rebuilt. In the interim, business was being conducted from rented offices about a mile from the Tower's site. A more pressing concern was recovering records which were kept in the various departments; Legal, Accounting, HR and others. Of course they had backups but some things were, of necessity, kept on paper—legal files and cases in progress and the like.

Bruce made statements assuring stockholders and the public in general—as well as the employees—that everything would be restored and the company's many arms were still in business, healthy and work would continue on all projects. No one would lose their jobs, wages would continue to be paid and soon everything would be back to normal.

His statement was met with skepticism tinged with hope that he wasn't lying or delusional.

In regards to the drugs, three of the fully loaded trucks got through unimpeded, their cargo delivered and on the streets in less than two days after that night. One commercial bus, it's baggage compartment containing four suitcases and duffel bags filled with cocaine and heroin, made it through to New England without problem.

Two small private planes landed at Olson Airport, a small private field around twenty-five miles from Chicago. It was late and no one questioned the pilots who were old high school friends of the single guy in the control tower. Their cargo was delivered on time.

At a family dinner at the Manor, Dick and Bruce discussed how quickly Wayne Tower was being repaired; Bruce seemed pleased with the progress. "You did well with that undercover job." An unexpected compliment which Dick took with grain of salt. He knew it hadn't been a complete success, that too many people had died, that most of the drugs got through and were continuing to get through; the only difference was that the names and places of the deals had changed a bit. In fact, little had changed other than the details and specifics of location and various individuals involved.

Unspoken were the Wayne building deaths. Of course insurance would be paid, trust funds set up for the families and all of that but the losses would remain and no amount of time would change the new reality for the ones still left alive.

So Dick dismissed the compliment, rare as they were from Bruce. And he was angry. "I didn't make any difference, not in the long run. Drugs—we can't stop them, there are too many people who'll pay serious money to get them, too many people barely at the poverty level who can't make any kind of a living any other way than growing or manufacturing. What we did was a drop in the bucket."

"It's something."

"Something, but not much."

"Dick, this doesn't sound like you."

"How many people were killed just in this operation? A dozen? More? Add to that the employees you lost...There are 350 OD's a day in this country, around 120,000 people a year die.* You know the stats."

"But we have to do what we can, you know that."

"Sure, but in fact, we didn't really do anything other than make a gesture."

"Are you saying that we should hang it up, not bother?"

Dick looked pensive. "No, I'm not but it just seems sometimes...I don't know, sometimes it seems like we're fighting something which can't really be fought."

"Excuse me?"

"It a war we can't win. We may win a few battles but overall...?" He shrugged. "Do you know anyone who doesn't know someone who's died or been through rehab? I don't." A mental picture of Roy came to mind, though he was hardly the only one.

Bruce looked at him. "I wouldn't exactly call us representative of that." Dick just gave him a look and he was right in a way, of course, but that didn't mean that the fight shouldn't be fought. There were too many lives destroyed and not just the users themselves. For every death there were family and friends left behind; parents, spouses, children, neighbors. They suffered the effects as well. There were countless arguments, family fights, interventions. There were the financial costs, the emotional toll. There were the careers destroyed or never begun. There were too many genuinely innocent victims from the exploited workers in the poppy or whichever fields they worked in, there were the families, the employers. There were the ones whose belongings were stolen and sold for a fix by someone they knew and hoped they could trust.

The list was a long one. Too long.

There was the waste in terms of productivity, accomplishment, simply leading a normal life.

Dick spoke again. "Something like half or a third of all inmates in American prisons are there for drug offenses. 'All the laws on the books and they haven't made much difference." He took a drink of his beer. "You know that anti-drug program that's in almost every school in the country; DARE? It doesn't work. The teachers know it, the cops know it. It's a feel good sop to the parents."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it is. You ask any fifth grader if drugs are a bad thing and they all say yes. You ask the same question of a class of high school juniors and most of them agree but there's still a group which use. You know it's true."

Bruce sighed, this was going nowhere and he was tired of talking about it. It was frustrating and he suspected he couldn't make any headway with Dick because the points he was making were too good. "So what are you going to do now? Do you have any new cases lined up?"

"I'm still signed up to start the Police Academy in Bludhaven in two months, I'm going to do that, 'see what I can do to clean up the mess down there."

"So you're not giving up?"

"Dick have a small, sly smile. "Did I say I was?"

*These numbers are real.


But the problems weren't solved, not even the ones from this case. The next morning, early, around six AM three police cruisers pulled up to the main gate of Wayne Manor. An officer pressed the intercom.

"Yes?"

"Police; we have business with Richard Grayson, would you please open the gate? I have a warrant to search this property." The gate swung open, three minutes later the cars were at the front door, as were the police. Alfred allowed them to come in, Bruce and Dick both alerted and waiting to deal.

"Richard Grayson? We have a warrant for your arrest for suspicion of intent to sell controlled substances." Dick nodded, he was expecting this. Handcuffed, his rights were read and Bruce assured him that lawyers would meet them at the station. He was loaded into a squad car while the occupants of the other two cars served Bruce with a new warrant to search the property. He had no choice but to comply.

At the station house two of Bruce's best arrived within forty minutes of their receiving a call from Bruce himself. Lucius was also informed and knew to begin containment of the large and still growing scandal. It was known that Dick was a suspect but this ratcheted things up and could cause serious problems for the company.

The facts were laid out quickly. Dick was being indicted as a co-conspirator to traffic controlled substances. There had been cocaine and various paraphernalia found in his car, his apartment, his locker at Wayne Enterprises and in his suite at Wayne Manor. The fact that he tested clean meant nothing. He wasn't being accused of using, he was being accused of distributing. The reason for the delay in his arrest? The police knew the suspect would have the best legal minds to be had working to free him and wanted to make sure that the case was as close to air-tight as they could make it.

Bail, an exorbitant fifteen million dollars, surrender of his passport and wearing a tracking anklet which wasn't to be outside the main Wayne home, was quickly agreed to and paid.

Bruce issued a statement, reading it himself at a hastily called press conference; "My son, Richard, is completely innocent of all the charges which have been leveled against him. He will be vindicated and we are doing everything possible to cooperate with the police in this investigation.

"Wayne Enterprises is, in no way, implicated in the heinous drug cartel which has infiltrated several of our nation's largest corporations. The people behind this have, in many cases already been apprehended and others are being sought; they will be brought to justice and the many people affected by this crime will be able to resume their normal lives.

"As for the solvency of Wayne Corporation, I can give you my personal assurances that business as usual will continue while this is resolved. Thank you."

He declined to answer any questions.

TBC