WARNING: This story is rated R (just to be safe) for language, violence,
and mild sexual content.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman, Nightwing (even though I'd like to) or any of the related characters. They are owned by WB, AOL Time Warner, and DC Comics. Created by Bob Kane, God rest his soul.
Agent Thomas, Carmella and Sammy, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime after NML, but before the "Bruce Wayne Murder?" series.
Okay, well, I know my chapters are very small, but that's how I wanted it ... don't ask.
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
It smelled like death. Which wasn't all that surprising considering it was a morgue. Nightwing had always questioned the mental stability of anyone working there. Although, that was probably Kettle talking to Pot. He had been sitting above a couple of large cabinets hidden in shadow for nearly twenty minutes. Ignoring the dull pain growing in his legs, he watched the corpse on the table.
The door opened and Nightwing's attention perked. Finally. Two men, both wearing scrubs, entered the room laughing.
"You're sick, y'know that, Curt," the younger of the two said, still chuckling. They both grabbed rubber gloves and put them on.
"What'da we know 'bout this fella?" the other man asked snapping the edge of his glove.
The younger man grabbed a clipboard getting to business. "Uh ... not much. Cops wanted t'keep everything hush hush."
"And so we're just s'posed t'find cause of death?" He grabbed the sheet covering the overweight man and pulled it off. Raising one eyebrow he looked up at his colleague. "Well, I can tell y'what killed 'em without doin' an autopsy."
Nightwing could feel his gag reflex flip into gear. The corpse's head was completely severed. It sat about two inches from his body.
The older man turned his attention back to the body. He looked over to the spot where the head was supposed to be attached.
"It's been completely cauterized. What happened to this guy?" he said directing the question back to his partner.
"Like I said," he explained. "I was given little information. But whatever happened to this guy, it was enough to get the FBI involved. There's gonna' be an agent in tomorrow morning to give us some details, I hope."
That was all Nightwing needed to hear. He wasn't going to be getting any information here. He needed to find this agent.
The night air was refreshing compared to the stale air in the morgue. Once on the roof of the Gotham General Hospital, Nightwing flipped a switch tuning a radio to a special frequency.
"Oracle here," a computerized voice spoke into a concealed earpiece.
"Hey," Nightwing spoke crouching on the edge of the building. "I need some information."
"What'cha need?"
"I need you to see if you can locate a federal agent who would have flown into Gotham in the last couple of days."
"That's it? I thought it was going to be something challenging."
A smiled played on his face just under his mask. "Maybe next time."
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman, Nightwing (even though I'd like to) or any of the related characters. They are owned by WB, AOL Time Warner, and DC Comics. Created by Bob Kane, God rest his soul.
Agent Thomas, Carmella and Sammy, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime after NML, but before the "Bruce Wayne Murder?" series.
Okay, well, I know my chapters are very small, but that's how I wanted it ... don't ask.
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
It smelled like death. Which wasn't all that surprising considering it was a morgue. Nightwing had always questioned the mental stability of anyone working there. Although, that was probably Kettle talking to Pot. He had been sitting above a couple of large cabinets hidden in shadow for nearly twenty minutes. Ignoring the dull pain growing in his legs, he watched the corpse on the table.
The door opened and Nightwing's attention perked. Finally. Two men, both wearing scrubs, entered the room laughing.
"You're sick, y'know that, Curt," the younger of the two said, still chuckling. They both grabbed rubber gloves and put them on.
"What'da we know 'bout this fella?" the other man asked snapping the edge of his glove.
The younger man grabbed a clipboard getting to business. "Uh ... not much. Cops wanted t'keep everything hush hush."
"And so we're just s'posed t'find cause of death?" He grabbed the sheet covering the overweight man and pulled it off. Raising one eyebrow he looked up at his colleague. "Well, I can tell y'what killed 'em without doin' an autopsy."
Nightwing could feel his gag reflex flip into gear. The corpse's head was completely severed. It sat about two inches from his body.
The older man turned his attention back to the body. He looked over to the spot where the head was supposed to be attached.
"It's been completely cauterized. What happened to this guy?" he said directing the question back to his partner.
"Like I said," he explained. "I was given little information. But whatever happened to this guy, it was enough to get the FBI involved. There's gonna' be an agent in tomorrow morning to give us some details, I hope."
That was all Nightwing needed to hear. He wasn't going to be getting any information here. He needed to find this agent.
The night air was refreshing compared to the stale air in the morgue. Once on the roof of the Gotham General Hospital, Nightwing flipped a switch tuning a radio to a special frequency.
"Oracle here," a computerized voice spoke into a concealed earpiece.
"Hey," Nightwing spoke crouching on the edge of the building. "I need some information."
"What'cha need?"
"I need you to see if you can locate a federal agent who would have flown into Gotham in the last couple of days."
"That's it? I thought it was going to be something challenging."
A smiled played on his face just under his mask. "Maybe next time."