©December 2003
Rating: PG
Characters: Dick Grayson (Robin); Bruce Wayne (Batman)
Time Frame: Dick is 14
Disclaimer: Characters herein are owned by DC Comics/Time Warner/AOL. No profit is realized from creation of stories based on these trademarked characters. Not to be archived without permission.
Comments and feedback are welcome to SKHwrite@cranky-dog.com

Dark December

By SKH


Part Three

Marty Van Eyke checked his watch again. He'd reached the end of the slope fifteen minutes ago, and Dick still hadn't shown up. Marty looked around and saw one of the Gotham Academy teachers, Mr. Brooks. With one more look up the slope, Marty skied over to the teacher.

"Mr. Brooks! I was skiing with Dick Grayson and we got separated. He should have been down the mountain by now, but he's not. He was right behind me, and then he wasn't!"

The teacher looked at the breathless boy. Brooks recalled Grayson as Bruce Wayne's foster son and a good student in his American History class a couple of years earlier.

"Okay, son," Brooks said to Marty. "Let's ask around and see if anyone else might have seen Dick. Maybe he stopped to talk to someone." Like a girl, the teacher mentally added, knowing how teenaged boys were. "I'll have someone check his room, too."

"Thanks, Mr. Brooks," said Marty. Both teacher and student went about asking fellow students in the immediate area if they'd seen Dick Grayson.

The Ski-Doo and toboggan came off a maintenance trail near the road. A large, blue, four-wheel-drive pickup truck with a white bed topper was waiting for them. The "rescuers" got off and transferred the immobilized boy into the back of the truck and then abandoned the snowmobile in a roadside ditch.

"Let's go before the roads are closed from the snow," one man yelled. They stowed their equipment next to the unconscious boy, got into the truck, and took off.

Thirty minutes later, the truck pulled off the road and traveled up a narrow driveway. The driveway went a couple hundred yards into the woods, coming to an end at a cabin. The men piled out of the truck and carried the boy into the cabin.

"Put him into the next room," said a man wearing frameless eyeglasses. The man flipped open his cell phone and punched a number. "The package is secure," he said into the phone. "You can proceed with your plan."

After making an inquiry among many of the Gotham Academy students at the lodge, Marty and Mr. Brooks found that no one had seen Dick return from the mountain. Brooks turned to Marty. "I need you to find Dean Hartwell," Brooks said, referring to the ranking faculty advisor on the trip. Explain to him what's happened and tell him I'm going to the ski patrol office here at the lodge."

Several members of the ski patrol went up the mountain on snowmobiles to search for the missing student while others rode the lift to ski down from the top. The snow was coming down so heavily that no more skiers were being allowed to go up onto the trails. Within two hours, Dick's discarded skis had been located.

Alfred Pennyworth pressed a button in the security room at Wayne Manor, admitting the courier service through the main gates. He met the courier at the front door, accepted and signed for a large envelope marked "Wayne Household: Urgent."

Closing the door behind him, Alfred inspected the envelope before taking it into the security room. He ran the envelope through a fluoroscope, and seeing that it contained nothing suspicious, he opened it.

Alfred's eyes widened as he read the single page message inside the envelope. The ringing telephone stirred Alfred from his shock.

"Wayne Manor," he answered crisply, still eyeing the startling missive.

"Mr. Pennyworth, this is Dean Hartwell, with the Gotham Academy. I'm calling from the Slopes resort."

"Master Dick is missing," Alfred blurted out.

"Y-yes, but how did you know?" Hartwell asked with surprise.

"I've just now received a communiqué from his abductors," said Alfred.

"Abductors? We assumed he fell while on the ski slope," Hartwell told Alfred. "The student he was skiing with made it down and Dick did not. The ski patrol instituted a search, but all they have found so far is the boy's skis."

"Dean Hartwell, I strongly suggest you contact the local authorities immediately. I'm afraid I must ring off in order to contact Mr. Wayne."

With shaking fingers, Alfred dialed Bruce's cell phone.

Dick slowly came to consciousness, realizing he was lying face down on a bed. Memory returned, and he slowly flexed and relaxed his muscles, making sure they answered his commands. What he discovered was that his hands and feet were bound. Dick tried to open his eyes and realized that he was blindfolded, too. Instantly, his training kicked in and he began to register sounds and smells, trying to get a bearing on his situation.

Wherever he was, it wasn't his room at the resort. It didn't smell like room freshener. Dick didn't move or give any indication he was awake. He listened very carefully for indications that anyone else was in the room. What noises he heard seemed to come from outside the room. Dick rolled over on the bed, took a deep breath, and released it. He slid his arms down and slipped his hips, legs, and feet through his bound hands. A second later, Dick was pushing the blindfold away from his eyes.

He was alone in the room, a moderately small bedroom in a house or cabin. Dick saw a window and looked out, seeing only trees and falling snow through the dimming daylight. Quickly, Dick untied his feet and started working on the ropes binding his wrists. In seconds, he was free. Hearing footsteps coming closer to the door, Dick rushed to the window and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Dick grabbed a chair and threw it through the window, smashing the glass to bits. But instead of jumping out the window, Dick hid under the bed as his abductors stormed into his room.

"Dammit! The little bastard's gone!" one of the men shouted.

"He couldn't have gone far. Get outside now and find that kid."

One set of footsteps remained in the room and walked over to the window. From under the bed, Dick could see a pair of boots — small, feminine ones. The boots walked away from the window and out of the room.

After a few seconds, Dick slid out from under the bed. A glance out the window showed two men searching the area on that side of the building. Dick crept closer to the open door and peered through it. He could see down a short hallway to the main room and the open front door. Using all the stealth he'd been trained to employ, Dick crept down the hall, all senses on edge in anticipation of action. When he reached the end of the hall, Dick bolted for the door. All he had to do was to get into the woods and under the cover of the heavy snowfall. Beyond the doorway was a raised porch. Dick calculated how he would vault over the railing, ready to battle his abductors if he couldn't outrun them.

Dick reached the doorway at top speed, ready to spring. As he crossed the threshold he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. Before another thought flashed through his head, someone kicked him hard in the chest.

The woman had inspected the broken window in the cabin bedroom and immediately saw that there were no footprints in the snow outside. Suspecting their "guest" had not left at all, she left the room. She opened the front door to the cabin and stepped out onto the porch, out of sight, and waited. Before long, her hunch paid off, and the kid made his break. But she was waiting for him and stopped him with a roundhouse kick to the chest. The boy's feet left the ground and he landed on his back with a loud thud and a breathless shout of pain.

The two men came running to the porch at the sound to find the woman holding the boy at gunpoint.

"Get him up and drug him, you idiots," the woman said.

The men jerked Dick to his feet.

"Who are you?" Dick snarled. "Bruce isn't going to pay you a dime, you know! He doesn't deal with thugs and lowlifes like you!"

The woman walked over to Dick and grabbed his face with one strong hand. Dick glared at her, unable to see her eyes behind her mirrored sunglasses.

"You're going to shut up and go to sleep, little boy," the woman said calmly. "Be quiet and behave, and things will be over soon."

The two men dragged Dick back into the house. He kicked upwards, flipping over the men and out of their arms. Dick grabbed a floor lamp and swung it at them, making contact with one man's head.

Before the second man could reach for Dick, the woman aimed and fired. Stinging heat struck Dick in the neck, and his hands reached for the injury. As he hit the ground, his fingers found and pulled at a dart. The last thing Dick saw before darkness overtook him was the iron faced beauty of the woman looking down on him.

As Bruce Wayne took the news from Alfred, his expression betrayed none of the fury that was erupting inside him. He made apologies to his corporate hosts and briefly explained to Lucius Fox that a situation had come up with the family that required his immediate return.

As Bruce left the Sagumo corporate office, he phoned his pilot, giving the man instructions to take off immediately for the United States. Bruce's chosen pilots acted on his word alone and knew their jobs well. Discretion was paramount, and they were paid exceptionally well to reinforce the perception that Bruce Wayne was one place when he was actually in another.

Bruce took a cab to a small warehouse building in Tokyo, owned by an alias of Bruce's. Inside the warehouse, he made his way to a unique platform, stopping only to key in a command on an adjacent console. The Justice League teleporter glowed and shimmered, ferrying its passenger to the other side of the Earth.

tbc in part 4