Hank sipped coffee from his thermos as he scanned over the article displayed on his laptop screen. It was common for people his age to visit a coffee shop such as 24/7 Joe to do some work or reading, taking advantage of the caffeine and complimentary Wi-Fi.

Of course, those people probably didn't wear masks while browsing the internet or composing emails. And they likely sat at a table in the shop rather than on the roof. But Kite figured his uniform would probably disturb the peace of the customers, even with the time being 11:42 pm.

"The Oberon Collection: Inspired by a sword passed down through generations since the sixth century, Erica Redmund created these works in the style of Arthurian Legends. These pieces evoke memories of Kings and Queens, knights, quests, and magic that had been all but forgotten."

Hank closed the tab on the Oberon Collection and peered with binoculars across the street. Another reason he chose to sit on the roof of 24/7 Joe was to give himself a better view of the Haven Museum across the street.

He'd been perched on the rooftop for just under two hours, and saw no signs of his kleptomaniac childhood friend. Had he been wasting his time? Had Aubrey not been casing the museum in preparation for a theft tonight? Could she have just been visiting the museum because of an interest in art? Was it even her he saw at the museum today? He'd never even seen her face.

Stellar work, Detective Kite. He'd been quick to trust his gut instinct, following a hunch without enough hard evidence to back it up. Kite exhaled an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask.

His hand shot to his pocket as his phone buzzed. He whipped it out and glanced at the screen.

"What are you doing two weeks from now?"

A message from Elizabeth Carter. Hank chuckled to himself as he tapped a response.

"You know I'm not capable of planning that far ahead."

"Great. My family's going to a fancy benefit dinner, and you're my date."

Hank shook his head with a small smile. Liz was naturally a tough person to tell "no." When she was unwilling to take "no" for an answer, it was basically impossible.

"Sounds good."

"Yo." Hank whirled around to face the voice behind him, his heart pounding in surprise. "Easy, kid. Chill. It's just me, your old buddy Red Hood." A man in charcoal armor and a brown jacket carefully stepped toward Kite, pulling a red hood back behind his head to reveal dark hair and a red domino mask. "Nice to meet you."

Hank slowly took one hand off the escrima stick strapped to his back, and the other out of the wingding pouch in his belt. "Does every... Bat-person just suck at first impressions?"

"Sorry kid, didn't mean to spook you. Like I said—Red Hood—nice to meet you." The Red Hood offered his hand, which Hank reluctantly shook. "Dick told you I was coming, right?

"Who's Dick? Don't you wear a helmet—or whatever that thing is called?" Hank eyed Red Hood carefully as folded his laptop and put it in his bag.

"Relax, man. We're on the roof of a two-story building. No one's listening to us. Dick Grayson, A.K.A. Nightwing asked me, Red Hood, A.K.A. Jason Todd, to take you—Kite—Hank Duncan—on a little field trip." Red Hood, or Jason, spoke as casually as if they were old friends meeting inside the coffee shop. He pulled his hood back over his head, further obscuring his countenance.

"Okay, you made your point, dude." Hank pinched the bridge of his nose, resisting the urge to wince at the mention of his real name while in uniform.

"And as for the helmet… Well, I'm sort of rebranding. I'll tell you on the way, come on, we're on a tight schedule." Jason took a step back and disappeared below the ledge of the roof. Hank quickly jogged to the ledge, seeing Red Hood slip into the driver's seat of a sleek black car.

Kite glanced over his shoulder toward the museum. He felt the urge to continue his stakeout, but he still had no idea if Aubrey would even show up. He shook his head and leapt off the roof. Field trip it is.


She couldn't tell whether or not she had been in the church building before until she inhaled through her nose.

Aubrey had heard once before that smell is the sense most closely associated with memory, and right now, it that idea certainly seemed more plausible than most pop-psychology. The scent in the stale air inside the church was a mix of old carpet, candles, and wood.

She gazed across the aisles and up at the large cross displayed on the wall—the focal point of the room.

"Do you believe any of this stuff, Henry?" The room was filled with chatter, but nevertheless, her brother's words came under his breath. Jared was naturally cautiouscompared to other ten year old boys, he was like a practiced politician. Patient, careful, never one to say or do too much, always leaving people wanting more.

"Honestly, I'm not sure, J." It was rare that Henry Duncan paused like this, even for a brief moment, when giving a response.

After being around him almost constantly for the past two years, Aubrey knew that a pause such as this one meant Hank had everything figured out in his head, but he was searching for the proper combination of words to weave his thoughts together for someone else to understand.

"... I guess I'd like to believe it. There are lots of nice ideas in there. 'Love thy neighbor', 'thou shalt not kill'… Seems great, I guess. But there are definitely things I have questions about. Like that guy who got eaten by a whale."

"It wasn't a whale, Hank. It was just a big fish." Tanner Duncan was as sweet and polite as a nine year old boy could be, but he didn't always have the most patience for errors. With his brother, especially, there was no reason to censor his corrections.

"Okay, well then that's even less likely." A roll of the eyes toward his younger brother. "I'm also confused why everyone is so positive that it's a 'Heavenly Father' and not a mother. I mean how do they know?" Hank flashed a look toward Aubrey.

The motion was fast and subtle, just a slight quirk of the mouth and a tiny raise of the left eyebrow, but Aubrey had seen Henry make the face many times. The face that said 'Pretty funny, huh?' but didn't give you time to answer.

"What about you, Aubrey? What do you think of all this?" Aubrey's eyes were on the ceiling, midway through their roll in response to Hank, but she knew without looking that Tanner's own curious gray eyes must be trained on her. His ability to maintain eye contact would've been intimidating if it were not so clearly sincere in its desire to pay attention, to soak up whatever was in front of them.

"I think… Whatever the church believes is small potatoes compared to the new beds they're giving us. Now I'm going to the snack table over there to secure as many cookies as I can hold. Who's with me?"

Aubrey's eyes drifted toward the wall where the table was set up on that day, but like nearly everything else that used to be in this building, it hadn't been there for a long time. At least, it was safe to assume that. John wouldn't have chosen this as a meeting place unless it had been abandoned for years.

"Hmm. It's not like them to be late." John checked his watch and glanced toward Aubrey. "I certainly hope they don't plan to keep us waiting for long."

"Apologies, John. Lots of ways to get distracted in Gotham." The door had swung open just as John was finishing his sentence. The sandy-haired man wore a tight smile on his face, obscured slightly by stubble.

The dark haired woman with the blonde man took a step around him, green eyes flashing as they honed in on Aubrey. "Who are you?"

"Robert. Marilyn." John's tone was measured, his words slow. "This is Aubrey. She's with me."

"We're not in a terribly trusting mood, right now, John," Marilyn snapped as she wiped a dark smudge from her forehead. Was that soot? The aromas of smoke and cinders had mixed in with the overall scent of the church.

"I can see that. But I trust the girl with my life. Meaning since we started working together, I've also trusted her with yours," John replied coolly. "Like you said, Gotham can be a… distracting place. I wanted to bring some backup in case any distractions came along."

"Enough banter—we understand. And there are more important things to worry about right now. Things that dictate changing our plans." Rodger put a hand on Marilyn's shoulder, holding his hazel gaze steady with John's. "The two who gave us info on the mob businesses were snooping around in one of our safehouses. They can't be trusted."

"Really? Aubrey, has any information on some of your more recent targets been false?" John's voice remained cool, calm and collected as he looked towards Aubrey. She thought for a moment, then shook her head.

"No. All the names, numbers, dates, times and locations were accurate, as far as I know." Aubrey habitually clasped her hands behind her back, brushing against her tunic, easily within reach of any equipment she might need.

"If they were trying to sabotage you, why would they give you good information?" John inquired thoughtfully.

"What matters is not why, but how we adjust. They know about Aaron Silver. We need to deal with those who are not cooperating in a different way," Marilyn paused for a moment and looked at Rodger, "And we may need to alter the final plan. We've discovered an issue with the guest list."


"This is gonna rock." Jason had a slightly worrisome smile on his face as he continued to floor it down the dirt road. Rockton, the rural county to the west of Bludhaven, was not a place Hank had visited often, except for once or twice to go hiking with Scott. Over the roar of the engine, he heard the low whistle of a train.

"So Batgirl and I stopped a mob hit, and you and I are robbing a train." Kite watched through the windshield as the road bent in a curve to line up parallel with the train tracks. In the rearview mirror, he caught the sight of the train's lights approaching behind them.

"That's right, kid. Got a problem with that?" Red Hood pushed a button on the console, and the roof of the convertible folded back with a low whirring sound. The wind of the night ripped apart the still air around Hank's ears. Hood tilted the steering wheel gently, adjusting their course to be within a few feet of the train tracks. "Ready?!" He called loudly over the wind.

"Not even a little bit!" Hank gritted his teeth as he shouted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hood press another button on the console, and the car gradually slowed down, allowing the train to catch up to them before accelerating again to match the speed of the train.

"Kid, trust me, this is no big deal. I've done my homework for this. The jump is four feet. You can make it easy." Red Hood unhooked his seatbelt and slowly began to stand on his seat, gripping the top of the windshield for stability. "We may be going sixty miles an hour, but so is the train, so it will just be like jumping between two buildings. Both standing still."

At this point, the jump was only the first in a list of concerns Hank was developing. "Aren't we more in the business of stopping train robbers? And you never even told me why we're robbing the train!" Hank joined Hood in standing on their seats.

"This is Robin training, Hank. Rule number one of being Robin is trusting Batman. Or in this case, me." Hood called over his shoulder as he tensed his body, bending his legs in preparation to jump. The storage car they were aligned with was devoid of people to question why two men in masks were jumping onto the train. "Rule number two is knowing when to break the rules!"

As the words left his mouth, Hood leapt from the car to the train. Time seemed to slow down as he floated through the air, stretching his arms out to grab the railing on top of the car. His hands found purchase and he used his feet to kick himself off the side of the train car and onto its roof. Hank saw his mouth open but couldn't hear him say anything. He was pretty sure it was something along the lines of "Your turn."

Hank moved to the front seat, putting one foot on top of the car door and gripping the windshield for support. He stared down the train car in front of him, took a deep breath, tensed his body, and exhaled forcefully as he released the tension and sprung forward. Time slowed once more. He reached out his arms, but he could already tell his jump was off.

Jason Todd was maybe two inches taller than Dick, meaning he was maybe four inches taller than Hank. Kite's arms were not long enough to grab the railing. He twisted his body to thrust his left shoulder upward and reach as high as he could with one hand. His left hand gripped the railing, and his body hit the side of the train car with a thud.

He gritted his teeth and heard a grunt escape his lips as his left hand began to open in response to the impact. He had just begun to feel himself falling when two strong hands grabbed his forearm roughly, and he was yanked up onto the train car.

Jason let out a joyous whoop as Hank groaned, lying prone on the car's roof for a moment before pushing himself slowly up. "What'd I tell you? Rule number one: trust me."

"Thanks, Hood." Hank muttered, rubbing his left shoulder gingerly as he stood up.

"No problem. Don't worry, kid, I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya. With you around, I get to call Batman grandpa." Hood chuckled to himself, and Hank's lips curled into a half smile. Sure, he had maybe just almost died, but Jason did seem to know what he was doing.

Kite followed as Red Hood jogged across the top of the train cars toward the back of the train, taking small, controlled leaps between cars. "You were half right, earlier," Red Hood shouted over his shoulder, "We are technically robbing this train, but we're also stopping smugglers from getting a shipment of experimental weapons into Metropolis."

"Experimental weapons?" Hank's eyes widened behind his plumage patterned mask.

"That's right. The kind that's supposed to hurt Super-folks. More likely, it will just put a larger number of normal people in harm's way, but neither option is great, so here we are." Hood had stopped, putting his hand up to motion Kite to halt as well. "This is our entrance. Things are going to get loud. You ready?"

Hank adjusted his gloves and nodded. Jason nodded back with a smirk before he acrobatically flipped off the roof of the train car, gripping the railing with one hand and swinging his body feet first toward the window of the car.

Hank followed as soon as he heard the glass shatter, diving in through the window and rolling as he hit the floor.

The inside of the car was more spacious than he had expected, which meant more room to move. "Howdy, ladies." Hood's voice echoed rang out in front of Kite, who counted twelve very tall women whipping their heads toward Red Hood and himself. Hank knew he had to act quickly before the surprise wore off.

He vaulted off Jason's shoulders and used his momentum to drive his heel into a collarbone, whirling around and whipping out an escrima stick before cracking it into a jaw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Red Hood throw a strong left cross that connected with a dark haired woman's cheek, dropping her quickly.

Red Hood moved much differently than Nightwing in a fight. Though he was not quite as acrobatic, he was big, strong, and surprisingly fast. His larger frame established him as a brawler, bobbing, weaving and blocking like a boxer, before punishing with powerful blows of his own.

Another woman shouted something in a language Hank didn't recognize as she ran towards Hood in an attempt to tackle him, but he shook her off easily, kicking her into the wall with a loud crash. Hank blinked to refocus himself. Mission. Bad guys—well, gals.

Hank and Jason continued to fight their way toward opposite sides of the train car. The womens' height was not their only notable feature. Their eyes were a bright, lime green, reminding Hank of slime he had seen in a movie about ghosts.

Kite jabbed an escrima stick into the final woman on his side of the car, discharging forty thousand volts into her body before delivering a palm strike to her sternum. "Where are the guns?" Hank finally took a moment to observe the car as more than just a battleground. Other than him, Red Hood, and the women, it seemed empty.

"I got them," Hank's gaze fell on the back of Jason's head as he stood up from a kneeling position and briskly walked toward him. "Come on, let's go."

"What? You don't have anything in your hands? Where are the guns?" There was a high pitched repeated beeping in Hank's ears. What is that?

"We don't have time for this, Kite!" Jason pulled a pistol from his brown jacket, firing at the lock of the emergency exit door in the car before Hank could react to the gun. "Move!"

Red Hood's car was right outside the train's door, still keeping pace with the train. Hood grabbed Kite's shoulder and positioned him in front of the door. "Jump to the back seat. Go!"

Hank wanted to argue, but the urgency in Hood's voice made him think better of talking back. He dove forward from the train, landing with a thud on the leather seats of the car with a grunt. At least they're softer than the train car.

Hank saw a dark blur land in the driver's seat in front of him, and heard the squeal of brakes as was thrown forward. Kite gripped the seatback to keep himself from getting whiplash. "Jesus, dude, what the hell are y—"

His voice was cut off by an explosion booming across the open fields surrounding them. The train car they had just occupied had become a pillar of flame and smoke. Hank's heart pounded in his chest. The air around him pulsed in his ears, and he heard himself say "You killed them!"

His muscles tightened with rage. It felt strange and uncomfortable to be screaming at Jason from behind, in the back of his car, but his mouth was spitting out the words before he had time to think about them. "How could you do that, Jason?! You won't let anything happen to me, huh? You just let me become an accomplice to murder!"

"Hank." Jason had taken off his red mask. His blue eyes were dark, but radiated sincerity. "You're not an accomplice to murder."

"Wha—"

"Hank! There weren't any guns on that train. Those women weren't alive. They were the experimental weapons. Androids, their entire bodies made from an alloy infused with kryptonite." Hank's breath caught in his throat. He was flooded with relief. "To you and me, they were just another thug to beat up, but to Superman or Supergirl, they're assassins. Hiding in plain sight to lure them in and kill them."

"I… I'm sorry." He felt irritation with himself, and perhaps a bit of shame for blowing up at Jason so quickly. Tonight had been about trust, and as soon as things seemed to go awry, Hank had abandoned all trust in his substitute teacher.

"Hey, come on, kid, it's all good. You know how many times I went off on Batman? How many shouting matches Dick started with him?" A small smile had appeared on Jason's face as he started the car again. "Trust goes both ways. We were supposed to trust him, but we also kept him honest. Just like you keep Dick honest. You did good tonight, Kite."

"Hmm. Thanks, man." A small feeling of pride began to well in Hank's chest.

"Alright, time to celebrate. What's the best dive bar in Bludhaven?"

"I'm not twenty-one, Jason."

"Trust me, we'll get you in there. I have a way with bouncers."