A Different Game: Part 5c

"Now Tim!" Dick yelled, as he and Tim turned from the precipice. With lightning reflexes, he and Tim struck. The unsuspecting guards were quickly taken out. Moving to one of the now unconscious guards, Dick took his flashlight, shining it down into the Cavidad Obscuro. It was still too dark to see. "Bruce!" Dick shouted into the darkness. He heard nothing but his own voice echoing.

Remembering some rope he saw outside the entryway to the chamber, Tim ran out to get it. Upon his return, Tim quickly secured one end of the rope to the round stone covering and threw the other end of the rope into the black hole. "One of us has to go down there. See if Bruce is there."

Dick nodded in agreement. He put the flashlight in his back jeans pocket, and grabbed the rope. He climbed down into the Cavidad Obscuro. He took out the flashlight and started looking around. The bottom of the cavern wasn't very wide. Sitting on the far side of the small area was a large man. His head hung down. His hair and beard were black. Dick wasn't even sure if the man was breathing. He didn't look up as Dick approached him. Dick crouched down and tentatively whispered, "Bruce?"

The man slowly raised his head and squinted his blue eyes as he tried to determine if he recognized the young man before him.

Dick felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked the man in the eyes. "Bruce," he said, his voice so full of emotion. "It's ... I ... you're ... " Dick felt tears stinging his eyes.

The man before him stared at Dick. Then slowly, tentatively, he reached out to touch Dick on the face. "Di-ick," Bruce said hoarsely. "Is it really ... no ... another ... hallucination."

Bruce started to look back down, when Dick grabbed his hand. "No. I'm real. We're both real. Tim and I are here. We've come to take you home."

"Said ... said you were ... dead. You and ... Tim. That he ... had -- "

"Who did? Bane?" Dick growled as he mentioned Bane's name. "He lied. We're both fine. We're all fine."

"What ... took you ... so long?"

"What took US so long? What're YOU still doing here, oh mighty escape artist?" Dick replied with a grin. Then his tone becoming more serious, he said, "It's really a long story. I'll tell you all about it on the way back to Gotham. Let's get out of here."

"Leg ... broke. Twice. Not ... set."

Dick nodded his head. He knew what he had to do. He started for the rope and stopped. Going back to Bruce, Dick pulled him into a hug. Tentatively, Bruce placed his arms around his son and hugged him back.

"Tim," Dick shouted. "I need you down here."

Quickly, Tim climbed down the rope. He saw Dick and he saw Bruce. He smiled and ran to Bruce. Falling on his knees, he clutched at him. "You're alive."

Dick smiled at them, but he knew, as much as they wanted a family reunion, they still had work to do. They had to escape Pena Duro. "His leg's broken. Badly. Help me move him closer to the rope," Dick ordered, as he and Tim lifted Bruce by the arms and moved him. They could tell in lifting him that he had lost a lot of weight. Bruce let out a moan of pain. "Tim, I'm going up. Tie the rope securely around Bruce and help him stand, and I'll pull him up."

"Okay. And then I'll come up."

"Well, we're not leaving without you," Dick said with a wink as he started up the rope.

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Bane and his companion walked into the cantina in Camari. The man known as the Bird headed toward the back table. Sitting down, they both scanned the room.

"The younger vigilantes escaped the American authorities. Perhaps we should have simply killed them," Bane said as he watched the young waitress heading toward their table.

"But you were correct when you said that would bring all of the heroes searching for the Batman, not just those from Gotham."

"May I help you?" the girl asked, her long black hair flowing down her back. She looked at the smaller of the two men. She recognized him. And she remembered the two young men who had asked about him, they had said they were friends of his. They had seemed nice. Much nicer than their friends who sat here now seemed to be.

And now those two young men were in Pena Duro prison. She shuddered at the thought. It had weighed on her mind, since she saw them on the prison transport. They had not seemed the type to end up there. Did these men know what had happened to their friends? "You had friends here looking for you," she started. "I was sorry about what happened to them."

"Friends," the Bird asked as he looked at Bane, concerned because he knew someone was looking him. "What friends?"

"Two young Americans. Both very handsome. Very young."

"One in his twenties and another a boy? Dark hair, blue eyes?" Bane asked in a gruff voice.

"Yes," she replied.

"What happened to them that you are sorry about?" Bane continued questioning the girl.

"They were sent to Pena Duro this morning. I do not know what they did."

"Bring us two tequilas," Bane said. After the girl walked away, he looked the Bird squarely in the eyes. "So, Nightwing and Robin are in Pena Duro. They are more resourceful than I have given them credit for being. Perhaps they are also worthy adversaries? In any event, they must be dealt with. Prepared, they just may escape Pena Duro. I suggest we start looking for their transportation out of the country. They will come to us."

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Bruce noticed the still unconscious guards as he sat down on the floor. He watched as Dick threw the rope back down to Tim. Once they were all together up top, they took the rope and used it, along with one of the guards' cattle prods, to tie Bruce's leg in a makeshift splint. Dick and Tim got on each side of Bruce, to help steady him, and started down the dark corridor. Dick tried to remember the way out. He was trying to come up with a plan to get into the courtyard and through the massive outer gates. Bruce's injury was going to make it harder.

They could hear guards behind them, and increased their pace as much as they could. Dick hit the comm link in his ear. Static. They were too far down, he couldn't contact Babs because of the stone walls. They were on their own.

"This way," Dick said as they reached the head of a 'T' shaped corridor. At the end of the corridor was a heavy metal door. Tim held on to Bruce as Dick pulled at the door. After it opened and they went through, they looked down on an arena -- prisoners were fighting for the enjoyment of the spectators who sat around the outer walls encircling the area. A steel cage protecting the spectators from the fighters.

They started down the spiraling corridor leading toward the arena.

"Shouldn't we be going up?" Tim asked.

"The guards are right behind us bro, we need a distraction."

"The fights," Bruce stated, understanding what Dick had in mind. Bruce could almost smile, but for his pain, as he felt great pride for his son. Despite overwhelming odds, Dick was still determined to take them home.

They heard the door slamming shut behind them. Dick, Tim and Bruce continued heading toward the arena. Reaching a barred door, Dick looked to Tim.

"I'd guess this is how the prisoners get into the arena. Wanna crack the door, bro?"

Tim grinned as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his mini- torch. Quickly, he set about burning though the lock.

A half-smile formed on Bruce's face, "How did you get that in here?"

"Easy, no one searched us. Guess they thought coming from a jail, we'd been searched," Dick replied, then added sardonically. "Either that, or they just didn't care if the prisoners smuggled goods in. They just weren't expecting Bat goods."

"You two are getting pretty good."

"Well, it's the training, " Tim said as he pushed the door open. "We have a pretty good teacher."

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Roy Harper nervously paced through Barbara Gordon's apartment. "Any word yet?"

"No, Roy," Barbara replied exasperated at his question. It was the same one she had heard for two days. It was the same one she kept asking herself in her mind. And hearing Roy's vocalization of it wasn't helping ease her worry.

"Damn," he replied as he continued pacing.

Dinah came through the front door, Chinese take out in hand. "Jacobs is still outside," she reported. Walking into the kitchen, she watched Roy pacing through the room. "Roy Harper, if you wear a hole in that carpet, you are personally replacing it. Now sit down," Dinah ordered as Clark started pulling the take-out from the bags.

Roy stopped where he stood, staring at Dinah. "Yes, mother."

Barbara giggled as she headed back into her control room. Even through everything, she could still giggle. That was something, wasn't it?

Turning to her controls, she flipped a switch and watched as her perimeter cameras caught sight of Detective Jacobs. He had been staking out her building for over a week now, along with several other officers at his direction. Had procured a warrant to tap her telephone lines. Barbara wasn't suppose to know that, but Oracle did. She smiled at him even as she shook her head. In this cat and mouse game, the mouse thought he was the cat. Still, he could pose a problem, later on. But they would deal with it then.

Clark entered Oracle's control room. "Dinner's on the table. Do you want to come out and eat with us?" He looked at the monitor that seemed to hold her attention. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Why don't you come on? Jacobs isn't going anywhere, and we'll hear the signal WHEN they send it."

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Dick and Tim, with Bruce between them, entered the chamber where the prisoners awaited their turn in the arena. They saw men stretching and preparing for the deadly games. A few of these men turned to look at the three new prisoners, while others continued their preparations.

"Why are these two here? A boy and cripple. They can't fight in the games," a fighter asked pointing at Tim and Bruce.

Dick's eyes narrowed. "They're with me." He moved to the other barred door which looked into the arena. He could see four prisoners fighting. His eyes scanned the area, quickly surveying his surroundings. On the far side of the arena was a large wooden door with a metal center bar. "Where does that door go?"

The fighter looked out to the door Dick pointed at and laughed. "To the central courtyard. But you'll never get the door open."

"What if I could?"

The fighter continued to laugh at him. "Could what?"

"What if I could open that door? Would you be interested? Would all of you be interested?"

"Escaping? Attempting to escape Pena Duro means death."

"Fighting out there could also mean death," Dick stated with determination.

A second fighter moved closer, interested in what Dick was saying. "Even if we get into the courtyard, there is still the main gate. How do you plan to get that open?"

"I have a way. But I'll need a distraction. The guards will have to be kept away from us," Dick replied pointing to Bruce and Tim.

The second fighter looked at the other men in the room. Dick had all of their attention at this point. "If he can do as he says, we should help him. Pena Duro is a death sentence for all of us anyway." The other prisoners agreed. Then the second fighter turned to Dick, "But if you fail, I will kill you myself."

Dick's cold blue eyes firmly looked at the fighter and held his gaze. "I'll go out with the next group of fighters. Tim, you deal with this lock after the guards relock the door. Then everyone storm the area. Tim, your main job in the field is to protect Bruce."

"Gotcha Dick," Tim replied.

"I don't need -- "

"Don't you argue, Dick's in charge right now," Tim stated then added under Bruce's glare, " -- uh -- Sir."

"Stop giving the kid a hard time, Bruce," Dick said without even looking at them. He didn't have to, he knew what Bruce was doing. He had done it to him enough. It made him smile as he thought about those times.

Bruce's eyes softened and he ruffled Tim's hair. Tim grinned back at him.

The door opened and the guards looked in "Next group, out!"

The two fighters who had been speaking with Dick, along with another fighter and Dick. Dick heard the guards lock the door behind them. He and the three fighters moved to the center of the arena and started to fight. They had to make it look real. Of course, the way the third fighter hit him, it felt real. They parried and thrust at each other around and around the arena.

Tim had his mini-torch working on the lock. The other prisoners crowded around him as he worked. "Got it! Everybody ready to go?" Tim asked as he swung the barred door open. The prisoners rushed into the arena, they attacked the guards. Bruce, leaning on Tim, headed for Dick.

Dick pulled a few smoke bomb pellets from his pocket throwing them to the ground causing more confusion than before. Quickly, his arm was around Bruce's waist, on the opposite side as Tim, and together they moved toward the large wooden door. Reaching the door, Tim pulled two small pellet grenades from his back pocket. Pulling the tab that released the quick setting contact cement, he strategically slammed the pellets on the door. Quickly, he moved to the side wall near the door beside Dick and Bruce. The grenades only had five second delay fuses. The door blew. They rushed through the gaping hole and into the courtyard, quickly followed by other prisoners and guards.

Once in the courtyard, guards started shooting at the prisoners. Dick and Tim, with Bruce in tow, were dodging bullets and guards as they headed toward the large gates. The guards in the perimeter towers were shooting down on them as other guards following them shot at the prisoners as well.

"How many more grenades do you have Tim?"

"Four."

"With mine, that makes ten. Bruce, do you think that'll take the gate?"

Bruce looked at the large gate. Originally wooden, it had been reinforced with steel. A concussion blast grenade would easily take the gate, he wasn't sure if the pellets had enough charge. But it was all the hope they had. "Yes," he growled forcing himself to believe it would work. It had to work.

Dick and Tim moved him against the wall, "Watch yourself," Dick said as he and Tim headed toward the gate. Bruce saw a bullets striking the ground, causing a plume of dirt to rise on the ground trailing Dick. He watched as Dick jumped and flipped, avoiding another round of bullets. Tim fell to the ground and rolled doing the same. Reaching the gate, they set the charges and ran back to Bruce at their top speed.

The explosion rocked the very ground. Dick used his body as a shield trying to protect Bruce and Tim from the blast.

"Dick, are you alright?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah," Dick replied. "Lets get outta here," he said with a wide grin as he saw the now broken gate laying in shambles on the ground.

They rushed the opening, along with other prisoners. The guards were shooting. Seeing prisoners dropping around them, they ran, but they managed to evade the bullets and make it into the thick underbrush.

"Cone on, we've got the Humvee stashed about a twenty yards from here. That'll take us to the Batwing and that'll take us home."

"You boys came prepared," Bruce said as they headed toward the Humvee step by excruciating step. His leg burned with pain.

"We were bat scouts," Tim said with a grin.

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Barbara jumped as she heard her communications channel beep. Clark leaned over her shoulder as she answered her hail. "Oracle here."

"Hey babe, it's me. We're out of Pena Duro and headed toward the plane."

"We meaning?"

"Bruce, Tim and me," Dick said happily.

"Bruce is there? He's alive! And alright?" Barbara called back. Then Dick heard her shouting into her apartment "They've got Bruce, he's alive!"

Dick couldn't help but smile. He heard the commotion and multitude of voices in the background. Sounded like everyone was at Barbara's.

"Dick, someone here wants to speak to Bruce," Barbara said.

Dick switched on the Humvee's speakers. "Ok, he can hear, go ahead."

"Master Bruce," Alfred said tentatively.

"Alfred ... good to hear your voice," Bruce replied weakly.

"Good to hear yours too, son," he replied, his voice cracking with emotion. "I ... I never thought I would hear your voice again, young man." His heart soared hearing Bruce's voice, but he worried at the tone he heard. The scratchiness, the weakness, it wasn't the voice he was used to. He wouldn't be fully satisfied until he actually saw him.

"I've missed you too."

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As the Humvee neared the plane, Dick touched the controls which opened the cargo section of the plane. He drove the Humvee into the cargo hold. After they emerged from the vehicle, they headed toward the passenger section of the plane. As Tim sat Bruce down in one of the large chairs, Dick headed toward the cockpit. He stopped as he watched the cockpit door swing open.

Dick stepped backwards, inhaling his breath quickly. This he hadn't prepared for. "Bane!" he growled.

Bruce and Tim turned their attention forward. Bruce's eyes glared at the man responsible for his imprisonment.

"It did not take as long for you to escape Pena Duro as it did for you to escape your American prison. Very good," Bane said.

"American prison?" Bruce asked as he turned to face Tim.

"It's a long story. Really. Long story."

Dick glared at Bane. He remembered everything Bane had put them through. The excruciating pain of thinking Bruce was dead. The trial and conviction he and Tim had to endure. The months spent in jail, the emotional torture their loved ones suffered worrying about their welfare, their very lives. Having to dig up, what he thought at the time, was Bruce's grave. All the pain Bruce had suffered, the broken leg, near starvation, the Cavidad Obscuro. He hated Bane. He wanted to hurt Bane. But he knew he had to lure him out of the plane before he could fight him. Tim could fly the plane. Tim could take Bruce home. Jumping up, Dick kicked Bane hard in the chest. Yet the large man didn't flinch. Dick flipped backwards landing near the plane's door.

As Bane rushed him, Dick grabbed the handle opening the door. Dick held on, riding the door out as Bane lunged past him, dropping eight feet to the ground below. Dick turned the door loose, jumping to the ground. He took advantage of Bane being down and started attacking the man with a series of kicks and punches. He was succeeding in keeping Bane down.

Tim had ran to the door, watching the events taking place outside.

"Go start the engine, Tim," Bruce ordered.

Without argument, Tim ran to the cockpit to ready the plane for take- off. What he saw upon entering the cockpit caused his heart to sink. Bane had disabled the plane. The cockpit was virtually destroyed. There was no way anyone would be flying that plane anywhere. Hanging his head, he ran back to report to Bruce.

Dick continued to pummel Bane, keeping him on the ground. Suddenly, Dick was attacked by a falcon. His attention went to trying to prevent the bird from injuring him as it attacked his eyes. It was all the advantage Bane needed. Suddenly, he was up and attacking Dick.

Bruce had heard Dick cry out as the falcon first attacked him. He had Tim move him to the door. Bruce saw the villain known as the Bird standing back. He also saw Dick trying to fend off a two-fold attack from Bane and the falcon. "Take out the bird man, Tim. That'll draw the falcon away from Dick. But watch your eyes."

Tim nodded as he flipped down from the plane. Running, he leapt into the air, his feet connecting with the Bird's jaw. The falcon turned to protect it's master. Tim threw a bola perfectly, bringing down the falcon. Turning, he saw that Bane had Dick in a bear hug. He was trying to squeeze the life from Dick. Tim ran as fast as he could, jumping Bane from behind.

Bruce watched helplessly from the plane. Damn his leg. Damn his boys' exhaustion. Damn Bane for all of this. He looked around the plane, searching desperately for some way to help.

Bane tried to shake Tim off his back as he continued to squeeze Dick. Dick tried to fight, to loosen Bane's grip. He could feel his ribs being crushed to the point that they were about to break. Suddenly, a Batarang hit Bane in the head. The force and the pain caused him to drop Dick as he fell backwards.

Tim jumped to the ground and scrambled around Bane to Dick's side. "You okay, bro?"

"For now. But I don't know if I can go round two," Dick stated through labored breath, as his hand went to his throbbing head.

Tim felt his heart pounding in his chest as he watched Bane rise and start for them. He knew he wasn't strong enough to fight him. "Then what are we going to do?" Tim asked, uncertainty in his voice.

Bruce watched helplessly from the plane's door. The batarang he used was the only weapon he had found. Bane had stripped the plane of almost every useful object. "Bane!" he shouted, although his voice was still raw and hoarse. "You want me, take me!"

Bane looked up at Bruce and laughed. Then he headed toward Dick and Tim.

Tim's eyes darted from Dick to Bane and back again.

"I think we gotta know when to say 'uncle'."



TO BE CONCLUDED ....