CHAPTER 28

"Since Robin hasn't found his way back to the batcave, we must assume that he's being held by someone. The list of potential abductors is too long to try to investigate them one by one, so I've come up with a plan that will hopefully…encourage…whoever has Robin to give him back forthwith," Batman raised glittering eyes to Superman and Wonder Woman. "This will require cooperation from my Justice League colleagues as well as the Gotham Police Department. Captain Gordon has already confirmed with the Commissioner that we will have full cooperation there."

Wonder Woman looked over the map. "You'll have our help, of course. What do you need from us?"

"In order to get the message to the crime bosses who make these decisions, the word must filter up from below. I propose to make crime, all crime, unprofitable within Gotham City for the immediate and foreseeable future. Gotham City Police Department will increase patrols in all parts of the city but focusing on the those controlled by leading crime bosses. We," he flashed a half-smile at Superman, Batman and Naylor. "Will reinforce that by giving our special attention to those gangs and organizations which have the most to gain by holding Robin. At every arrest, the arresting officer or hero will inform the suspect that the reason for this concentration of force is Robin's abduction. When Robin is returned unharmed, the patrols will return to their normal levels."

"There's something that doesn't sound right in that," Superman mused. "Almost as if you're promising to back off your activities when Robin is given back."

"It may feel like that, but the simple economic fact is that Gotham can't afford intensive crime enforcement, but with your assistance and for a brief period of time, we can make the gangs hurt where it hurts most: financially. That's most likely to bring them to heel in time to do Robin any good," Batman stated. "The new program begins tomorrow. I've divided Gotham into sections. Superman, you take section 'A', Wonder Woman will take 'B', while Naylor and I will take 'C'. We begin at seven tomorrow morning and continue…"

"Yes," Wonder Woman looked at him musingly. "When do we finish?"

Batman gave her a sideways look. "When we get a result."


Robin sat in the crowd of boys watching the fighters dueling. He knew that he could do better, or at least he could when his arm was working right. He flexed his right arm and noticed that the twinges were dying back. Good. He'd been with Shrike's group for three nights now and it was almost as if he'd never left.

He blended in better now as well. Yesterday Shrike had wrinkled his nose when he looked at Robin and said, "I didn't know that bats were dirty. You haven't taken a shower since you joined us. Boone, get this skunk an outfit and show him the shower room. He can't join us until he is clean!"

Boone, with a smirk, led Robin to the communal showers. "Okay, 'Freddie', we shower after a workout and every morning. You'll be given clean clothes when you need 'em, just like before. Leave the old rag on the bench." He pointed to a set of wooden benches stacked with towels outside the shower.

"Do I get shoes?" Robin asked, looking at the beige tunic and pants he'd been given.

"What do you take us for? No shoes. Keeps you closer to the dojo," Boone said sharply. "When you're done, throw the towel in the bin and come back to the training room."

Boone took his uniform away while he was in the shower, but that was all right. Robin had hidden the lock picks in his mouth. While he dressed, he slid them into the hem of the new tunic.

Walking softly down the hallway to the common room, he passed the room used as Shrike's office and overheard voices. He stopped and listened carefully.

An older voice was talking on Shrike's computer, "I want to know whether the boy is Batman's get. Send me some of the boy's DNA; he certainly looks promising if he's Batman's blood son. My daughter will be of age in a few years and the Batman interests me as a potential successor…Try to woo the boy into the organization. Whether or not he's a blood relative, he has talent and while we have him, we have Batman under our control…"

Shrike replied, "He's already integrating well; joins in the morning meditation and stretching exercises. I will continue to encourage his participation in the group as you instruct."

Robin slipped past the open door and padded down the hallway to the training room. He didn't have to fight, only be seen to be present for the moment. The conversation gave him a lot to think about. Someone…the Demon?...was evaluating Batman as though he were a prize german shepard or, he smiled, a stallion. The thought he was Batman's blood son? Well, they'd be really disappointed when all they found were Rom genes. He was used to being held as a bargaining chip for Batman's cooperation; it came with the territory. Nice to know they thought Batman had raised him well. Robin tried to look placid as he examined the circuit of the room. He hadn't found a way out yet, at least nothing better than picking the lock on his room and sneaking out. That might be the only option in the end.

"Robin," a voice at his elbow roused him from his brown study. Shrike stood next to him.

"Yeah?" Robin answered, suspicious of Shrike's friendly tone.

"We're going to practice kicks today. Nothing wrong with your feet. Come join us."

Robin's eyes narrowed as he followed Shrike into the center of the room. They'd set up targets for high and low kicks. The trainees would take a run and try a 'kill' shot on the target's neck. Simple enough. He hadn't had any real practice in days. He might as well give it a shot. No way was he being seduced into the League of Assassins again…


By day three of Batman's plan, the criminal underclass in Gotham City had been reduced into a state of trembling jitters. No money was coming in. No smuggled goods were going out. Protection money was not being paid to extortionists and a disturbing number of small time crooks had been hauled in to jail. Payrolls weren't being met. Each crook had been told just why law enforcement was so focused—return Robin and life goes back to normal.

Word had come in that the Penguin had had a conference with his high ranking flunkies—find the bird and get him back to Batman. Business was bad and getting worse! Two-Face had murdered his second in command for incompetence. The Scarecrow said nothing but six people with no known ties had died from fright in an afternoon. Low level crooks had begun keeping an eye out for the Boy Wonder and high level crooks were offering rewards.

In the batcave, a tired-looking Judge Naylor was huddled over a microscope examining a slide. "What am I supposed to be seeing?" he asked. "Realize that high school chemistry was a long time ago."

"The substance on that slide is taken from the John Doe in Gotham General Hospital's clothing. It's kaolin, a form of clay used in cosmetics and various industrial uses," Batman pointed out. "Now, take a look at this slide. You pulled the sample from Robin's shoes."

Naylor adjusted the microscope and peered through it. "It's identical." He looked up. "So where is there a source for kaolin in Gotham City? No, I'm betting we don't have to look that far, do we Batman? A source for kaolin in the Restaurant Row district…" He left the microphone and walked over to where the Gotham City map was posted. Batman joined him there.

"One of the old warehouses?" Naylor bit a thumbnail. "But there have to be a hundred of them out there. How do you narrow it down?"

"It helps to have a friend who's a Gotham historian," Batman commented. "I've got his book on the Gotham City waterfront. It's pretty dry reading, but gives me an idea of the commodities that each of the old warehouses used to carry. Look at this one…" He opened the book and showed a paragraph to Judge Naylor. Naylor's eyes brightened when he read it. Gotham paint and paper company had used huge quantities of kaolin to provide a glossy finish to paper and to moderate gloss in paint.

"So, when do we go?" he asked.


Today it was knives. "Aren't you tired of being moved around, prodded, forced into situations you never made and don't control?" Shrike whispered when he handed the blade to Robin. "For as long as you're second to the Bat, you're nobody in your own right. You're just a kid. But there's more in you than that. Let it out.." Shrike snapped out the last 't' in the word, then gave Robin a little push as he ran forward to the dummy at the end of the room.

Batman didn't encourage knife-play, although they trained in it. It was a…relief…to finally let out some of the frustration, the anger at eternally being cooped up, supervised, treated like a little child by all the adults in his life. Robin had been incarcerated by someone for at least two weeks with no end in sight. He'd been patient, had tried to work within the system because Batman wanted it. He hadn't realized just how angry that made him. With the knife he made quick work of the ballistics gel dummy, feeling the slimy substance ooze out over his hands as he stabbed it in the 'heart'. The gel was supposed to mimic the texture and reaction of real human flesh. This one didn't have bones, but the next one would have a skeleton inside it, Shrike promised…

The days were long and they didn't sleep much. Robin didn't remember that from the old assassins' school he'd been in. The new system was much tougher, more work and harder. He didn't have much time to think, to plan. It occurred to him that they were trying to brainwash him. This was what cults did to new converts: deprive them of sleep, separate them from family and friends, make them part of a new group, a new family. Take over their minds. How long had he been here, anyway? His past was beginning to fade in the eternal today of the dojo. The lights were always on, the people always the same and dressed identically. Even the face he saw in the mirror was the same as the others. He'd discarded his mask since they'd already seen his face as 'Freddy Loyd' when he'd been here before. There didn't seem to be any point in hiding his face. Besides, they weren't interested in Dick Grayson, only in Robin. And Robin was starting to feel comfortable for the first time in a long time.