The Emperor's Talon
Chapter 13: Demons of Crime Alley
The Batmobile sped through Gotham's skyways. Buildings and bright lights raced past in vibrantly shining streaks of color. Melting snow continued to drip from the high-rises making everything gleam as the artificial lights danced off wet durasteal and glass. Beyond the sparkling cityscape of Gotham's most regal towers, came the dirty and dangerous regions; mostly along the city border on the Bludhaven side. The Batmobile dashed unseen out of the glorious pride of the city and into one such sector.
Batman stopped over Crime Alley and allowed the vehicle to idly hover over a dilapidated cement apartment complex. The Batmobile's cloaking device and anti-grav repulsors went into auto pilot as Batman popped the canopy. Out of habit, he made one final check of his utility belt before leaping over the side of the speeder and landing cat-footed on the roof below.
Robin smiled as he looked down at the rooftop and prepared to follow his mentor. Unable to contain his excitement, he threw himself into the air and spun a double somersault in the night sky. Fresh Spring wind whipped his cloak and ran its chilly fingers through his hair. Suspended for a few breathtaking seconds over the rooftop, he was surrounded by nothing but air. This was flying. This was freedom! He landed lightly beside Batman in a low crouch, grinning fiercely.
"No need for such theatricality in your landings, Robin," Batman scolded.
"Unnecessarily flashy acrobatics are my thing. Brooding is yours," Robin retorted lightly.
"Remember what I said about focusing?"
Robin shrugged. "Everyone's got a gimmick these days."
"Quiet. We're going in."
Batman and Robin moved silently over the rooftop towards a rusty trapdoor by the solar panels. The door creaked ever so softly as Batman lifted it open. He vanished like a fleeting breath of winter wind into the shadows. Being a former Talon had its advantages, Robin found, as his eyes were well adjusted to the lack of light. Silent as a forgotten spirit, he followed Batman's lead into the musty blackness of the apartment's attic.
Scanning his surroundings, Robin discovered a door only partially open. The rest of the room was empty except for a few unopened cardboard boxes and utilities. Batman must have gone ahead without him. Playing the stealth game for his own purposes rather than the execution of the Emperor's bidding would be new and exciting. Robin grinned freely as he passed through the door and tumbled silently down the hall.
When he caught up with Batman, the Dark Knight was kneeling by the chalk outline of Willis Todd's body. His fingers traced the line as it moved from the floor up onto the wall where the man's back had been slumped in an uncomfortable upright position. Robin looked too. He noticed right away multiple sets of footprints and scuff marks in the dirt on the floor. Obviously, no one had thought to clean it in a long time. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he could not detect any prints out of the ordinary.
"The police report describes the body as having been shot through the chest with an exit wound in the back." Batman's low voice resounded eerily soft in the stillness of the hallway. The one flickering yellow lightbulb did not make the effect any more comforting.
Robin stopped examining the footprints and looked back at the man. "So?"
"If Willis Todd was shot in this hall. And if the blaster bolt passed all the way through him creating an exit wound, then there would be a new blaster burn and blood on the wall where he was hit."
Robin was instantly alert. "The wall behind the body is smeared with blood from right to left meaning that he either sat down or was set down after he was shot."
"Correct." Batman rose. "There is no indication on the wall that a man was shot in the way that the police report describes in this hall."
"Which means that the murder happened elsewhere and whoever killed Todd dropped the body in the hall," Robin finished. He should know. Not that as the Talon he had ever been this careless with bodies. The boy shivered involuntarily. Perhaps Batman had been right, and it was too soon for him to be out on the streets again. Robin shook his head as if to clear it. "So, since this is not the actual crime scene, we have no obvious link to the perpetrators."
"Not an obvious one, no," Batman agreed.
"The police didn't get any relevant information from any of the other occupants of the building?"
"No. No one was even aware that Willis Todd was in the building since he is not an official resident." Batman stooped by the chalk outline again.
"Which, I suppose, could support your Black Mask connection theory. He may have been in hiding from the cartel; unless…" Robin stopped short.
Batman nodded grimly. "Unless whatever the Storm Troopers were making way for is already here. Black Mask is a little more…showy…with his murders. He likes to make a point. His murders are designed to punish people and send a message to Gotham."
"This one almost looks casual," Robin observed. "It's like whoever killed Willis Todd didn't think him worth the effort of dealing with and just deposited his body in the hall."
"That appears to be the case."
"Which means that Todd wasn't the killer's real target."
"That's a cynical observation, Robin," Batman quipped, unexpected amused. Dark humor gets the better of every crimefighter sooner or later.
"Why do I get the feeling that a Black Mask murder would make this case a little less terrifying?" laughed Robin. He was making light of the situation. He didn't need batman to know that something about this case was making him unexplainably queasy. It wasn't that they were dealing with a bloody murder- that had been a good portion of his life- but there was something else. Something off.
For his part, Batman had gone silent again. He seamed lost in thought. The cogs of his detective's mind churned with thousands of possibilities and explanations. Non of them good. He had of course done his research on Willis Todd before leaving the cave. The man had a lot of enemies, but there was something very wrong about this case. And it wasn't anything he could really pin-point. There were demons here; vagabonds and thieves milled about in the shadows. The Dark Side festered in Crime Alley, hiding heroes and killers alike in her lightless belly.
Crime Alley, Apartment 66:
"They're in the hall," Boba whispered. Batman and Robin moved like phantoms up and down the hall outside the door of their apartment; he could see them on the security feed.
Slade looked up from his second cup of tea. "And I thought Batman was the detective."
Boba growled. "They're right outside. We should ambush them and be done with it."
"Ambushes are not as effective as some people believe," Slade raised an eyebrow, practically daring Boba to rush headlong into the hall. "Unless the battle is won swiftly, the element of surprise wares off; your opponent can easily recover and shift the tide of battle in his own favor."
"What do you gain by doing nothing?" demanded Boba.
"Doing nothing?" repeated Slade, "on the contrary. I'm learning quite a lot."
"Like what?"
"Batman and the Talon both have logical and analytical minds. They're as quiet and stealthy as shadows; even capable of slipping past more than half of our security cameras. Batman picks up on things very swiftly; he's quite the detective. Talon, even though he's young, sees the bigger picture astonishingly well. He can fit together pieces of puzzles and determine which clues or ideas are irrelevant. Didn't you notice how they have already figured out that the Storm Troopers were moved out of Gotham to make room for something more deadly?"
Boba chewed his lip. "So, you've learned a little about how they think. Isn't it more relevant to know how they fight?"
"Not necessarily. But I don't think I've gleaned all I can from this exhibition. Not yet, anyways."
"What did you do?" the hot-headed Bounty Hunter raised an eyebrow behind his helmet.
"I called the Storm Troopers and told them where to find Batman and the Talon," Slade answered matter of factly. "They'll be here in minutes. We will watch the battle unfold, and then my dear Fett, you will learn how they fight."
Boba grunted approvingly. "You cover your bases, Deathstroke; I'll give you that."
"Indeed I do. A failure in planning is a plan for failure. Now sit back and enjoy the show."
Crime Alley, on site Todd murder scene:
Robin was getting frustrated. It wasn't like they had the authority to go barging into every apartment in the building looking for Willis Todd's murderer. Ok, technically they were trespassing already, but going into the building of a crime scene is a little different than barging in on innocent civilians. He pushed the hood off his face and ran a hand through his tousled black hair. Then he felt it; a slight tremor in the tide of the Force. He turned.
Batman was on his feet again. Heavy footsteps clattered noisily up the cement staircase on the bottom floor and were headed their way. They had seconds before they were trapped in the hallway with two dozen Storm Troopers. A glance at the Dark Knight's scowl revealed that Batman was thinking the same thing. They'd be caught like Alderanian rain-fish in a barrel if they stayed in the hall. While Batman and Robin were concerned with the safety of the tenors of the apartment building, the Storm Troopers were under no such ethical compunction.
"Someone turned us in," Robin proclaimed flatly.
"Back to the roof," ordered Batman. With a whoosh of his cape, the man was gone.
Robin threw the hood of his cape over his head again. He gathered the Force around himself and felt for their escape route, the danger, and the civilians within proximity. His senses cast themselves like a blanket into the Force, subtly lifting the shroud of darkness. Within his Force perception, Robin could see two cold and heartless demons, a swarm of mindless darkness, several terrified individuals, and one lone beacon flickering between the light and the dark.
"Batman, wait," he called, "I have to go back."
"Don't be foolish," hissed the Dark Knight, "there's no time."
"I sensed someone hiding in the hall."
"The killer?" questioned Batman, suddenly interested.
"No. I don't think so. It was a…a kid." Robin's eyes grew wide. The first of the Storm Troopers were running up the last flight of stairs.
Batman looked torn for the briefest of seconds. In fact, Robin would have missed it if he hadn't been so deep within the Force at that moment. "Hurry," he instructed.
Robin ran back down the hall. The Force led him strait towards a deep crevice between the stairwell and the adjacent doorframe. Inside, a ten-year-old boy had curled himself into a ball; no doubt waiting for Batman and Robin to vacate the place and give him a chance to perform his own investigation of the crime scene.
Robin kneeled in front of the boy. "You need to get out of here. If the Storm Troopers find you, they'll mistake you for me and shoot you on site."
"They're too incompetent to find me. And you're giving away my hiding place dim-wit," snapped the boy. Robin considered the point for a second. "Get out of here!" demanded the boy urgently.
From the other end of the hall, Batman shouted, "Robin, it's too late. Get back here!"
Yes, he could make it out of the hall just before the Storm Troopers discovered him- he was the Former Talon after all- but that would leave the hallway empty. If the Storm Troopers found a hall devoid of their expected quarry, they'd no doubt perform a thorough search; and he wasn't convinced that the boy's hiding place was as well concealed as he claimed. There was only one way to protect the kid now- let the troopers spot him. If he had their attention, it would draw any eyes away from the boy in the corner.
To the horror of Batman and boy alike, Robin deliberately waited a few seconds to allow himself to be caught. His heartrate picked up as the pounding feet of the troopers mounted the last stair and white clad men flooded into the hall. He bolted after Batman's retreating figure.
"There they go!" shouted the sergeant.
"They're headed for the roof," cried another.
"Open fire!" ordered the captain.
Robin bucked and rolled, narrowly missing two sizzling blaster burns through his sternum. There was no room to maneuver in the tight hallway. Another bolt clipped his right thigh. He ran. He was good at running. Reaching the end of the hall, he vaulted up the stairs towards Batman. The Troopers were right behind him. Imbued with adrenaline and the Force, he slammed the door in his pursuer's face with such strength that it broke off the hinges. He spun around only to see the muzzle of a blaster pointed at his forehead.
"Down!" commanded a terrifying voice from above.
Robin ducked reflexively. A baterang sailed out of the shadows and knocked the gun away from the trooper's hand. Momentarily stunned, the man fell victim to one of Robin's well aimed round-house kicks to the throat and stumbled backwards into his comrades.
Two back-handsprings later, Robin was on the rooftop beside the Dark Knight and closing the trap door over the oncoming troopers. He Force-lifted a stack of broken solar panels on top of the door.
"That won't hold them long," Robin pointed out breathlessly.
Batman turned to him and glowered. "You promised to follow my lead. And obey orders."
A clanging thud came from under the trapdoor; the pile of solar panels shifted slightly as the troopers tried to follow them onto the roof.
"Maybe now isn't the best time for a lecture."
Another thud.
"Some might call what you pulled mutiny."
"Really? Now." Clang. "And that was not mutiny. That kid was stubborn. I had to do something! You…" The troopers burst onto the rooftop. Robin looked pained. "Now look what you and your lectures got us into!"
The Dark Knight shot him a feral look. "They're right where I want them. Let's send the rest of these goons to the hospital, shall we?"
"It would be my pleasure, Boss." Robin grinned as he spun electrified escrima sticks through his fingers. "Bring it, Bucket-heads!"
A mechanically enhanced battle cry sounded from the Storm Trooper ranks. "Fire!"
Crime Alley, Apartment 66:
The two Bounty Hunters watched the battle on the roof unfold on the security monitors; Slade with lax posture and steepled fingers, and Boba with sweaty fists clenched by his sides.
As the battle unfolded on the screen, they watched Robin throw his hand out, finger splayed, and Forced the Troopers to point their blasters directly into the air. He took advantage of their momentary befuddlement and launched himself into the air. Above him, Batman's cape covered the moon and blocked the glow of streetlights behind ominous wings. And then they began to fight in earnest.
Richard grinned. The last time he faced this many troopers was almost four months ago when he fled into Alvorine's black forest. Then the cold had slowed him down. Then he had left his weapons behind. Then he had been the hunted. He had been so close to loosing everything all over again. But in this moment, the tables were turned. Now he was the hunter. There was nothing to hold him back; he was free. He wasn't the Talon, but he wasn't exactly Robin either; Richard Grayson had been unleashed.
"Spectacular," breathed Slade.
Batman was a terrifying pillar of strength and vengeance. Robin was a shadowy dervish, a whirlwind of untamed destructive power. With almost choreographed synchrony, the two threw smoke pellets at the rooftop and disappeared into the curling mist. A cackling but lighthearted mocking laugh echoed off the buildings and filled the air. Storm Troopers fell left and right falling victim to the Bat's ruthless left-hooks and Robin's acrobatic mastery of martial arts.
Boba ground his teeth. "It's a pity the Storm Troopers are supposed to be on our side."
"Indeed," agreed Slade. He winced as Robin wrapped his legs around the throat of one Trooper and slammed the man into the cement hard enough to crack his helmet.
"I take it back," said Boba, "the troopers are secretly working for the Batman. No one can be that inept."
Slade snorted at the comment. Then he turned curiously to Boba. "Have you learned anything by watching them?"
"Yeah. I think they might be a worthy opponent. Finally, I can have a little fun on the job," answered Boba cracking his knuckles. "What did you get out of it old man?"
Slade gave his associate a lopsided smirk. "I have learned their greatest weaknesses."
Crime Alley, Apartment Rooftop:
Batman and Robin stood breathing heavily among heaps of groaning Storm Troopers. These men were not getting up any time soon. Robin whipped his escrima sticks back into their holsters and looked up at Batman. The Dark Knight was gazing skyward where the Batmobile- cloaked against the stars- hovered over their heads.
"Robin, we're heading home." Batman informed him. He shot a grappling line at the Batmobile.
Dick hesitated. "There's something I have to do first."
"What?"
"Meet you back at the Batcave."
"Robin!" called Batman, but Dick was already flying over the rooftop and down to the street below; because there was something he had to do. What was the good of fighting for people when you leave them behind in mourning? Richard Grayson had red in his leger; he wanted to wipe it out. Righting wrongs is not as impossible as some people make it out to be; it starts with hope and the willingness to fight towards setting things straight. Redemption is never won easily; but the key is, that it can be won.
Dick moved into the shadows of the crevasse between the apartment complex where they found the body and the adjacent building. He assumed a relaxed and non-threatening posture and waited for the black-haired boy from the hall to walk out. He didn't have long to wait.
"Was it your dad that was shot?" he asked.
The boy jumped and spun on him; his body poised for attack. Dick would have found that cute in his Talon frame of mind, because not even most adults could take him on; but now he just found it sad.
"What's it to you?" snapped the boy.
Dick stepped into the moonlight. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Don't be," the boy scoffed, "Pop never did anything for us."
"Oh." Dick didn't know what to say.
"Yeah." The boy laughed shortly without even a hint of humor. "Now, get lost, Talon. I wouldn't be surprised if you had something to do with it."
"I am not the Talon!"
The boy assumed an heir of defiance and power, putting his hands on his hips and staring at Dick. He had guts. "Really? You think I don't listen to the news?"
"I was the Talon," Dick admitted. "But I changed. Your dad could have changed too if he had the chance."
"Nah, not Pop. Not me. Not you. Not nobody."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Bad things don't stop happening. Bad things start to make good people bad too. Those people change and adapt; it's the easiest way to survive. Just go along with whatever the bad people want and don't think about it. Pretty soon, there's only bad left and not nobody can escape it." The boy looked convinced. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but his face remained set in stone. Dick could recognize that face; he had worn it too often himself.
"I got out," Dick countered simply.
"Yeah? What makes you so special?" the boy scoffed.
Dick looked at him intently. "Only the fact that I seek redemption. Change never comes to people desperate to stay the same."
"Pop was desperate to stay the same." The boy deflated somewhat. "He wasn't good for nothin'. But he coulda been worse. At least he was there."
Dick put a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I aint cry'in ya fool!" the boy snapped, but the fight had gone out of him; and if Dick had performed some Force induced mind trick on him, he wasn't aware of having done so.
"I know you're not crying," whispered Dick. "Some people get too strong for that."
"I fight it. I fight everything; hurt, bad, cry'in. I fight it all."
"Sometimes I think that's where all of us are. Fighting off the bad as best we can. Trying to become something better than we were. It's that second bit that's important."
"Yeah." The boy pushed Dick away as if suddenly remembering that he had just opened up to a total stranger. "Thank's for noticin' me, I guess. Nobody cared at all that Pop died. And nobody cared that he aint there anymore. Nobody cared what mom thought or what I thought. I guess what we think don't mean much."
Dick gave the boy a sad smile. "Well, it means something to me, Jason Todd. I'm sorry about what happened- and I know that doesn't mean much to you- but I know what it's like." He pulled out his grappling gun and shot it a nearby rooftop.
"How did you know my name?"
"I'm a detective. See you around, Jay." The grappling line began to retract.
"Wait!" Dick paused halfway up the side of the apartment building. "If you aren't the Talon, who are you?"
"Redemption." Dick gave Jason a two-fingered salute and flew the rest of the way over the rooftops. He called back over his shoulder into the night air and down to the boy on the street, "I'm Robin."
…
Redemption isn't about survival; it's about the renewal of a soul that was once dead. The Talon had to live and die so that Robin could rise. A thing isn't beautiful because it has never been broken; it is beautiful because the scars show how it was redeemed.
…