There was silence on Huntress' side of the comm. She walked to the edge of the garage and looked down impatiently at the entrance. This was the part of being a vigilante Huntress hated: research, checking, and double-checking locations. Barbara was like the little angel that sat on Helena's shoulder and talked her out of her stupid ideas sometimes. "What's under this area?"

::It's an old company, Taberson, went out of business about ten years ago. It's storage space; there's nothing left. What are they doing?::

"I'm about to find out." Huntress jumped down and approached the heavy, rusted door. She paused slightly, then slipped in. As Helena waited for her eyes to adjust to the near-dark surroundings, she listened intently; distant footsteps, probably her two guys taking off into the intricate mazes of old Gotham.

Casting about, Huntress found a brown packaging box and wedged it into the door to prevent it from closing and locking her in. Within seconds, Huntress was examining the room. Old papers gave off a musty smell as Huntress rifled through a desk in the corner. A calendar hung on the wall. Helena glanced at it, 1991; twelve years ago. The door leading out of the office leaned hazardly on the doorframe. Huntress cautiously started down the dark musty hallway. "Uh, it smells down here, Oracle."

::Taberson worked with inks and stains. You're probably smelling the chemicals they used to die fabric.::

"Great. Chemical poisoning. Just what I need." Huntress looked around exasperated. Large slabs of sheet-rock and doors hanging off their hinges blocked her vision, making it difficult to travel and impossible to see beyond 15 feet. "I lost them." In frustration Huntress glanced behind her at the caved in hallway. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed something. "This place isn't abandoned."

::What do you mean? It's been unoccupied for over seven years.::

Huntress walked over to the small table and picked up a phone. "Well, it's occupied now." To the left of the phone was a milk carton. Huntress didn't have to read the date to tell it had spoiled. "Housekeeping leaves something to be desired. I'm gonna see if anyone is home."

::Huntress!::

"I'll be fine." Farther into the building a door closed. Helena quickly turned her head to listen. "Let me know if I leave, what is it? Tabersons?" She asked, her bright cat-eye pupils defying the darkness that surrounded them.

Barbara knew Helena was waiting for a response, she could almost see the younger woman shift irritably. Barbara sighed and surrendered. "Alright." Barbara tapped the keyboard several times and brought up the map of old Gotham with Huntress' steadily moving, red tracking device. Barbara slowly let herself lean against the back of her chair. "I hope you never pick up some of Helena's better traits," she commented wryly to Dinah who had curled up on a nearby chair during the exchange.

Dinah grimaced. "How long before I can go on sweeps?"

"Couple days, maybe a week. It all depends on how fast you recover. We'll see if you can go a couple of rounds with Helena. But that doesn't mean you're going back to school in a week." Barbara watched Dinah's expression drop.

"When do I go back?

"Probably tomorrow." Barbara glanced at the screen; Huntress was still in Taberson. "Have you found anything, Huntress?"

::I'm not sure, I'm in some kind of storage room. There are guards posted and I can't get any closer.:: Huntress' voice was low. Barbara inspected the screen closer, pinpointing Huntress' exact location. ::They have crates stacked in the corner.::

"Crates of what?"

Helena leaned farther out of the machinery along the wall to look. The two men she followed were patrolling, every five minutes they came within feet of the machines where Huntress hid. Just as the far side of the room came into view the closest guard sat down in her line of vision. Helena growled and scooted over a foot. No good. "Get out of the way, idiot," she hissed under her breath at the guard.

::Huntress?::

"Relax, I'm talking to the guard. Sat right in the damn way." Helena crouched and walked along the wall. Stooping, she picked up a slim metal rod from the dirty ground. Glancing around, she flicked it quickly along the floor. It crashed into a stack of old mops and brooms some feet away; knocking them down with a satisfying crash.

They were guards through and through; the instant the first broom hit the floor they were on their way to dutifully look. Using moving equipment as a block, Huntress ran to the first crate and glanced back at the guards. They were kicking the brooms and mops around; satisfied, they finally turned and started back. Huntress dropped to her hands and knees behind the first crate as they came within range. The dark fabric of her jacket pooled on the stone at her feet and blended perfectly.

Moments later they were at their sanctioned posts, backs to the vigilante. Huntress slowly backed behind another tower of crates, now well out of sight. To her right a crate was slightly open. Gently, she removed the lid and set it on its side.

"Oracle, the crates are full of weapons and syringes. Automatics, hand-guns, and small..." Huntress picked up an object curiously and turned it over in her hands, inspecting it, "Bombs." Huntress held the bomb closer, searching for a timing device. "Ugh, the bombs reek."

::Probably a chemical bomb. That would explain why they could be kept in such a high humidity environment. Huntress, can you bring back a syringe for analysis?::

"Yeah," Huntress crept behind several more towers and glanced around, her eyes widened in alarm. "Oracle, there are hundreds of crates full of this stuff."