The Emperor's Talon
Chapter 17: The First Move
Two days had passed since Batman and Robin had deduced their likely assailants. But while it was still fresh in their minds, the dynamic duo- for so Alfred had taken to calling them- determined to compartmentalize and continue living their civilian lives as if nothing were amis. Bruce had more reservations about the situation than Dick did, that was nothing out of the ordinary. For his part, the former Talon was quietly elated by the prospect of going to school. The overwhelming excitement far outweighed any trepidation he might have felt regarding his own personal safety.
And so the morning began. Dick tossed his data pad and Holoreader into his bag and tugged on a pair of loose combat boots. The tunic that was his new uniform was stiff and rough. The boots weren't the school's preferred footwear, but by the Force, some part of him was going to be comfortable. Tugging the bag over his shoulder, Dick took one final look in the mirror before heading downstairs.
As per usual, Alfred was already up and about cooking breakfast. The scent of fresh bread and Ithorian star fruit jam wafted through the house. Dick took a moment to wonder how he had ever lived without Alfred's cooking. If the Emperor ever discovered the man, he'd be enslaved as the new imperial chef. And while that was far from a pleasant thought, Dick chuckled internally. He reflected that he could be possessed of a rather dark sense of humor at times but decided not to dwell on it. People, even former assassins, we're entitled to their own peculiar coping mechanisms.
"Good morning, Alf," he greeted.
"Good morning Master Dick," responded the old man. His eyes twinkled. "I trust you're ready for today."
"You bet!" Dick smiled as Alfred set a plate of scrambled eggs, fresh toast, and Starfriut jam before him. "Thank you, Alfred."
Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen a moment later. He looked at Dick's uniform appraisingly. He nodded. "Remember to protect your identity from everyone. No one must make the connection between you and Robin."
Dick quirked an eyebrow. "Has the Batman assumed a new guise under the alias Captain Obvious?"
Bruce let out a low growl. "I'm not playing games, Richard."
"I would not test him about this, Master Dick," Alfred cautioned, "it wasn't an easy decision to let you go to a normal school."
"I know," Dick retorted, but not with any ire, "don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
Bruce nodded again. "Alfred will drive you to and from school. You will remain at school the entire time, and you will keep your commlink open."
"Understood," answered Dick. He did know when to take things seriously.
Satisfied that he had been heard, Bruce looked a little less tense. "Good. I'll see you this evening. I might have a fix on Deathstroke's headquarters here in Gotham." With that, Bruce grabbed a mug of hot caff and headed for his speeder and the Wayne Enterprises towering skyscraper. Fifteen minutes later, Dick and Alfred were headed for school.
Dick didn't know what to expect when the sleek Bentley pulled up in front of Gotham academy. Alfred parked the speeder at the curb. Dick, true to form, didn't wait for Alfred to open the door for him. Instead, he stepped out onto the cement and scanned the faces of the students and teachers. Dick had seen schools from the top of buildings at night, and sometimes during the day longing to run headlong inside with kids his own age. He smiled.
Looking through the faces, he caught sight of a girl with red hair and green eyes. "Barbra?!" he called.
The girl turned to face him full on and their eyes locked. "Dick? Oh my god, it's you! I didn't know you were coming to school here."
"I didn't know you went here," Dick intoned. He grabbed his bag and ran towards her.
Behind them, Alfred smiled to himself. They had made the right choice putting Dick in school. He had seen the boy's eyes shining in anticipation. And he'd seen the fireworks of joy spark deep within Dick's heart when he recognized Barbra. Chuckling, Alfred drove away. It had been his idea to keep the fact that Barbra went to Gotham Academy a secret from Dick as a surprise. It had been a marvelous success in his opinion.
Crime Alley: Apartment 66:
Having just run a sort of criminal-kid-napping errand for Deathstroke, Boba Fett was ready to murder someone. Anyone. He had effectively been reduced to the subordinate of his admittedly wiser associate- hardly privy to the details of Slade Wilson's master plan- and itching to vent his anger on someone. He knew the general idea of the plan involved baiting the Talon by kidnapping two of the kid's friends, but that was the extent of his knowledge. How Deathstroke had discovered who the Talon's friends were, he still found baffling. It would have been nice to know the Talon's true identity- some real name or something- but the Empire and- reputedly the Court of Owls- were so good at stripping away individual identities, that Boba doubted even the Talon knew who he really was.
But he was getting sidetracked. Boba had reentered the apartment with one objective: to complain. Or to kill Slade, whichever worked out.
"I got him," Boba stated.
"He's a ten-year-old boy. I should think you incapable if you failed," Slade responded.
Boba growled. "He's locked up for safe keeping. But I am not going to baby-sit."
Slade looked up from the computer monitor Cooley. "Oh?"
"The kid's intolerable," Boba complained.
"Then you have something in common," Slade responded without missing a beat, "perhaps you two can bond over it."
"I would so like to put a bullet through that big head of yours," growled Boba.
Slade only raised an eyebrow. "Even splattered on the wall, my brain would be more functional than yours. Shut up and get ready for phase two."
Boba threw a punch at his associate. Realizing that this could escalate into a full on battle, Slade allowed his hot-headed associate to land the punch. There would be plenty of time for revenge later and Slade Wilson had a long memory. For now though, Fett needed to let off some steam. Unfortunately, they still had a job to do. Otherwise, Deathstroke would be more than willing to plunge his katana into Fett's stomach up to the hilt. Heck, it would probably do them both some good in a twisted sort of way.
"If you're finished acting like a two-year-old, we should get back down to business." Slade picked himself off the floor in a very dignified manner. He oozed authority and superiority even during the most embarrassing of circumstances. It was so aggravating.
Boba wanted to curse the man to hell and back. But he settled for getting more information out of him instead. "What is phase two?"
"That, my dear Fett, is all up to you."
"Me? You're not going to tell me what to do any-more?" Boba didn't wait for Slade to answer the rhetorical question. "Pht, like that would ever happen."
True to form, Slade ignored the comment. "You're going to set up the Batman Trap in the Wayne Enterprises office complex. Take the whole building hostage. Set booby-traps, explosives, cause as much death and destruction as you want- I really don't care. Just wait till my signal before you get the Bat's attention."
Boba liked that plan, but..., "what will you be doing?"
"I'm going to pick up some more Talon bait at Gotham Academy," answered Slade, "I'll join you at Wayne Tech when my mission is complete."
Gotham Academy:
It was now nearly one O'clock in the afternoon. Dick and Barbra strolled through the hall more or less alone. Everyone else was either in class or in the library. Barbra had somehow managed to get the teacher give her a hall pass to get some books from her locker at the same time Dick was excused to go to the restroom. And so it was that the two friends ended up alone in the hall chatting.
"And I thought I was a nerd!" Barbra was saying.
Dick just laughed. "I like to read," he defended himself.
"You're like a breathing calculator-slash-encyclopedia," she teased.
"And you're what exactly?" Dick shot back, grinning.
"I," said Barbra feigning offence, "am a strong independent woman!"
Dick rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh I see how it is."
"Very perceptive" congratulated Barbra.
Dick laughed again. "Hey, I'm going to go to the restroom. I'll catch up with you in a few."
"Ok. I'm going to go get those books."
With that, the two parted ways. Barbra continued walking down the tiled hall towards her locker. When she turned the corner at the end, she nearly ran into a masked man. The man, faceless behind an orange and black mask, was tall and muscular. He was armed to the teeth with long-blades, knives, blasters, and other gadgets. Barbra felt a twinge of unexplainable recognition shoot through her; though whether she was recognizing something in the man or something about imminent death, she wasn't sure.
"Good afternoon, Miss Gordon." The voice was hard and sinister. The inflection charming. The result terrifying.
"Who are you?" Barbra managed to ask.
"Call me Deathstroke," the man answered. "There's a little something I need your help with, so if you come along quietly, I won't have to resort to…unpleasant methods."
Barbra stated backing away from him. "You've got the wrong girl. I'm Stephanie. Stephanie Brown."
"You're quick on your feet," Deathstoke mused. "Impressive. Most girls would freeze up and stop thinking."
"You haven't seen anything yet," Barbra declared. Having reached into her pocket for the taser gun her father made her carry, Barbra shot the bounty hunter four times before bolting down the hall. "Help!" she screamed, "someone help!"
"Damn bitch!" grumbled Deathstroke as he pulled himself together. He'd underestimated the girl. Having regained his dignity and footing, he started after her. It took him effectively two long swift strides to catch up with her. It wasn't too difficult from there to grab and restrain her. He clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress her cries for help. Tucking her securely against his side, Deathstroke made a move to jump through the glass window and into his waiting speeder. Despite the unplanned for factor- he never would have guessed Barbra to put up a fight- he thought his plan had succeeded without complication; as it should. However, he soon came to regret the lack of attention he had given the plan when he realized Barbra's cries for help had not gone unanswered.
"Hold it right there Deathstroke," ordered a young voice.
Despite himself, the bounty hunter froze in surprise. He hadn't known the Talon would be attending Gotham Academy. Regaining his composure quickly thereafter, he turned to face the speaker. "Hello again, Richard," he said calmly.
"Put her down." The words came out controlled and commanding; broken up by almost theatrical pauses.
In his head, the hunter calculated switching targets. The Talon was unarmed. Deathstroke would have little to no problem kidnapping the boy under these circumstances. And he already had Barbra in his clutches. He could easily skip a step and use Richard to bait the Bat. But even the few moments of indecision it took for him to formulate the new plot were enough for Barbra and Dick to take advantage of. Deathstroke was again made painfully aware of the fact that he had underestimated his target.
Taking advantage of her captor's momentary distraction, Barbra slipped a knife out of it's sheath on Deathstroke's thigh. She clamped her teeth down on the hand covering her mouth even as she jammed the knife into the back of his knee. She landed with a thud at his feet as he let go of her in surprise. And that was all the time Dick Grayson needed to launch into action.
"Damnit!" cursed Deathstroke.
Dick sprinted forward. Using his momentum and the Force, he slid effortlessly to the ground and sailed along the polished tiles towards Barbra. Reaching her, he shoved her out of the way a split second before Deathstroke's boot came down on her head. Now clear of her captor, Barbra took a moment to breath.
"Damnit!" Deathstroke repeated.
The skirmish and Barbra's screams had alerted the school. While the other teachers and students remained in the class rooms, the school went into lock down. Red lights began to flash, and an alarm bell rang through the halls. The school's meager security team would be there in minutes. And minutes later, so would the GCPD. Deathstoke did not want to take credit for any of the happenings in Gotham just yet. He'd have to work fast.
Ripping the knife out of his leg, he made a mad grab at Dick. He wasn't fast enough. Dick ducked under his arms and rolled to the side. Then he felt some invisible force pushing him back. He lifted off the ground and flew into a set of lockers. Damn. He'd forgotten that the Talon was Force sensitive. This was not his day.
It was time to play dirty. Deathstroke pulled out a precision blaster. "Fine, let's fight," he growled.
"Barbra, run!" shouted Dick.
"Won't do her any good, boy," hissed Deathstroke. He pulled the trigger. Two shots went wild into the lockers- again- courtesy of the Force and one Richard Grayson. But the third shot sizzled past Barbra's face. She froze, wide eyed.
"Run!" Dick repeated.
She didn't move. Deathstroke fired another shot. The blaster bolt exploded forward unerringly towards her. Faster than thought, Dick pushed Barbra out of the way with the Force, but not quite far enough. The bolt clipped her arm rather than burning through her heart.
"Babs, get out of here!" screamed Dick.
"No," she snapped firmly.
Deathstroke had gotten of his behind and pushed himself away from the lockers. The fierce bounty hunter stalked towards them. Nothing in his stride nor the faceless mask showed any indication that the man had just been stabbed in the leg.
"Go!" Dick urged.
Barbra didn't move. "I'm not leaving you alone with him!" she declared.
"Very loyal my dear," leered the advancing bounty hunter, "and very foolish."
"Don't you touch her!" Dick growled.
"One of you is coming with me," Deathstroke declared drawing forth a katana, "and I'm not picky on how it happens!" He lunged.
In shear bloody-minded terror, Dick let go of all the walls between himself and Robin. Even as Deathstroke brought the katana down hard towards him, Dick dashed for the opposite wall. With the Force, he shoved Barbra away from himself and Deathstroke, towards the window. Then, seconds before the steel weapon cleaved a gash in his shoulder, Dick ran up along the fall wall, pushed off, and backflipped over the man's head. Catching sight of a grenade on the bounty hunter's belt mid-air, Dick pulled the pin. He landed behind the man in a crouch and held up the pin for the man's inspection.
"Loose something, Death-breath?" teased Dick.
Unalarmed, Deathstroke removed the active grenade from his belt and threw it in Dick's direction. Dick held the grenade between them, suspended in the Force. It detonated. The school hallway blew apart. Dick and Deathstroke were thrown into opposite walls. Barbra screamed. She ducked as the explosion shattered the glass window behind her. The sound was unbearable. Then, silence.
The din of the explosion left their ears ringing. Debris fell in slow motion from the ceiling. Shards of glass gleamed on the floor. Small fires burned slowly in corners or around the bases of the lockers. The three stayed still for a moment. Then, over the pounding in their heads and hearts, they could hear the footfalls of the oncoming school security team and the police.
Deathstroke was the first to move. He strode towards Dick who was slowly regaining his feet. Then, as the police began firing at him, Deathstroke changed plans again. He leaped for the open window, grabbing Barbra as he did so, in one smooth motion. Dick rushed to the window and looked out. He was too late. The bounty hunter's speeder was already shooting into the distance.
"Stang," Dick cursed.