43. My Sweet Shadow
"I said, who are you?"
Dora watched as the woman took the tire-iron she was holding and smashed the car window. She reached inside and unlocked it. "He's never spoken of me? Shame." She sounded annoyed.
"No. What's your name?"
"Talia. Talia al Ghul." She slid into the car and started fumbling under the steering wheel. "Hurry up and hop in before more of these leather-faced brutes arrive."
Given Talia's lethal display of force against the group of men that were actively trying to kill her, Dora decided to trust her for now and ask questions later. "Fine, but you've got some explaining to do." She gripped the phone Jessie had given her tightly and jogged around to the passenger side of the car.
"In due time, my dear… Oh damn it, it's one of these…" Talia said, slapping the wheel in frustration. "These smart cars and their anti-theft features, eh?"
"Let's find another car, then." Dora said, her anxiety piquing.
Talia looked around the lot and seemed dissatisfied with what she saw. "Afraid we're stuck with this one. Take this and keep a look out." She handed Dora the gun she had stolen from one of the False Facers, then reached into a leather pack attached to her sword's sheath. A phone appeared in her hands, which she jabbed with her thumbs. "A moment, please . . ."
Dora looked at the gun in her hands and removed the magazine. She didn't know the model's name by heart, but she could tell it was .22 caliber and had 9 rounds left, meaning it might be easier to aim. Eying Talia, Dora felt the gesture inspired a little more trust, but she still was unsure what to think of this woman.
"Okay, how do you know Jason?"
"Small talk while in the thick of it?" Talia snorted. "I can see why he likes you."
"This isn't small talk. My life was in your hands." She reloaded the magazine, loudly, then put her finger on the trigger. She didn't quite aim the gun at Talia. "And your life is in mine." Dora repeated herself, stern. "How do you know him?"
"There it is." Talia smirked, eying the weapon. "I saved his life once. Twice… Well, several times, I suppose." She paused. "Actually, now that I think about it, it's more like I have a habit of keeping people from killing him and pulling his arse out of trouble. He likes trouble a little too much, but you already know that, don't you?"
P-pow! Crnk! Crnk! Ptngg!
Gun shots rang out. Cracks formed on the car's rear windshield. Dora and Talia ducked.
Then Talia's phone chirped, and the engine of the car roared to life.
"Hold that thought! Let's roll!" Talia popped back up, stomped on the pedals, and yanked the stick around. With a roar, the car launched, tires screeching.
Dora was slammed back into her seat. As Talia steered the vehicle towards the nearest exit, Dora turned back and saw a group of False Facers mounting and starting motorcycles, the fast sporty kind. There was a lull and Dora seized the moment. She lowered the window, raised the gun, and took aim.
POW! POW!
Two shots, one hit. It got a thug in the shoulder as he started his motorcycle. He fell backward off the seat while the bike kept going without him. It crashed into the thug ahead, who flew helmet-first into the ground. Dora took aim again, but her line of sight was broken as Talia rounded the corner and exited the garage.
"Good shooting!" Talia exclaimed.
"Thanks," Dora said, putting on her seatbelt. She was surprised she hit someone, given that one of her contact lenses was floating off center. She rubbed her eye, trying to fix it, and decided she had put off laser eye surgery long enough.
Talia swerved into a busy street at full speed, eliciting a chorus of honking horns and screeching tires. The car snarled, bucked as it changed gears, and rocketed down the road. Unfortunately, at least a dozen False Facers on bikes were still on their tail.
Dora took aim again, but Talia put a hand on her shoulder. "No, don't! Too many civilians in the crossfire!" Dora cringed, cursing herself for poor trigger discipline. She was exhausted and having trouble thinking straight.
Dora didn't know the traffic laws in China, but she was sure Talia broke all of them as she weaved through the streets of Hong Kong. The False Facers, in more agile vehicles, kept pace with them easily. Dora now fully understood why Jason preferred riding around in a motorcycle and had conscripted an army of bikers to his cause.
"How are we going to lose them?" Dora asked.
"Don't worry, I got it covered." Talia's voice strained as she rotated the steering wheel, danced on the pedals, and pulled on the brake.
The car suddenly veered right and slid into a drift, inertia slamming Dora into her door. "Fuck! Where'd you learn to drive?"
Talia laughed. "Actually, Jason taught me."
The drift ended with a snap in the opposite direction that straightened out the car. Dora noticed they were cruising along to the bay, approaching a marina. Another sharp turn and they skidded into a poorly lit parking lot of a pier. "What are you doing?" Dora exclaimed. "This is a dead end!"
"Indeed, it is. Get out and find cover."
Dora took off her seatbelt, gripped the gun and brass knuckles, then scanned the parking lot for a safe spot. What the hell is this crazy lady thinking?
The car screeched to a halt, Talia yelling, "Now!"
Dora hopped out of the car and broke for a small dock house doused in shadows. She couldn't get inside, but between it and a shed, she had cover from three directions. The water was to her back. She checked her gun. Seven rounds left.
Talia, on the other hand, simply stepped out of the car, closed her door, and leaned on the hood.
Moments later, the False Facers rolled into the parking lot. They observed Talia inspecting her manicure and exchanged looks with each other. They laughed as they dismounted their bikes and drew their weapons.
Talia sighed and raised her hand. She snapped her fingers.
A dozen figures dressed in black emerged from the shadows of the dimly lit parking lot, their faces concealed by hooded cowls.
Dora twitched in place, startled—one figure had stepped out of the darkness next to the shed she was hiding behind, not a yard away from her.
With utter silence, the black-clad figures each sneaked behind a False Facer, drew a knife, or a dagger, or a short sword, then swiftly put steel to flesh.
So focused on Talia, the False Facers did not see it coming. Ten thugs dropped lifeless to the ground, taken out by… A chill crawled down Dora's back. Ninjas.
"Dispose of the bodies properly, please." Talia flicked her fingers in a nonchalant manner, seemingly figuring out what was wrong with her manicure.
Standing from her hiding spot, Dora stared, speechless as the ninjas bowed at Talia and dragged the bodies of the False Facers away.
"Ah, there you are," Talia said, noticing Dora. "Please, come with me." She gestured Dora to follow her down the thin pier.
Finally free of the sense of doom caused by people threatening her life, Dora noticed a large yacht anchored at the end of the pier. She knew nothing about ships, boats, or yachts. She couldn't tell how many decks where on the extravagant boat, but the vessel was almost as large as the Blüdhaven Ferry. It looked like a miniature cruise ship.
Talia and Dora crossed a plank ramp and were welcomed by a female steward bowing and ushering them aboard. Talia led Dora up a flight of stairs and onto a deck intended to be a lounge. The room was put together nicer than the five-star hotel suite Dora had stayed in last night with Jason. It had a bar with a fully stocked shelf, a sitting area with leather upholstery, a hookah on the coffee table, and an open southern-facing view of Hong Kong Island across the bay through floor-to-ceiling windows.
"I'm sure you have questions." Talia made her way to the bar, then scoffed. "Well, more than 'who are you?" she mimicked Dora's American accent eerily well. She poured herself a drink that looked like vodka or gin. "But let's take a minute to calm down and recuperate before we talk." She downed the glass whole in one gulp, then shrugged off the shoulder rig/holster that held her sword, a gun, and its magazines. Just like that, the posh femme fatale facade was gone, and Talia looked ragged and tired—Dora finally noticed that Talia must be in her mid-to-late thirties, but was aging well.
Dora's heart was still pounding, but its cadence was falling. By degrees, the adrenaline wore off, and the weight of everything it helped her ignore… just came back. She looked at her hands. They were gripped tight around the handle of a gun and the rings of a knuckle-duster.
She let go of the gun and placed it on the bar counter. The tread-marks of the grip's handle were pressed red into her palm. The rings of the knuckle-duster had already bruised her fingers. She let it fall from her hand, and it clanked on the bar counter. She finally noticed the viscera still caked on the weapon. The man she had punched with it… she didn't want to think about the irreparable damage she had done to his face.
Finally, she still had the phone Jessie had given her. She was supposed to wait for Jessie and Jason to call her. Dora's eyes met Talia's and they both looked down at the phone. She tensed, moving the phone behind her back.
"Relax, dear." Talia waved her off. "There's a bathroom with a shower behind that door." She pointed, then took a quick sip of white liquor. "I'll have my people round up a change of clothes. Call Jason if you wish, but I would like to speak to you uninterrupted. I'm sure you'd like to speak to me too without being disturbed."
Dora did relax, nodding and shuffling to the bathroom. If the phone stayed on, she was sure Jason could track her down, regardless of her checking in. Closing the door and looking at the mirror, she didn't recognize the woman starring back at her.
The night started with her in a flattering form fitting red dress, but it was now in rags, barely clinging to her skin. The already short skirt had torn to barely cover her thighs, the straps of the dress's bustier were cutting into her shoulders, barely holding in her breasts. The skin of her chest, shoulders, elbows, and knees were covered in scratches and scrapes. The shoes Jason got her were ruined.
Her make-up had somehow held up, but there were small cuts on her upper-lip and cheek from the kick she took. As she tried to reset her contact lens, that side of her face was tender to the touch, and she knew it would soon leave horrible bruises.
How the hell was she going to explain this to her mother?
Worse yet, how the hell could she go back to Gotham now that Black Mask's False Face Society was actively trying to kill her? Did they know who she was, or were they just after Red Hood and his entourage?
A hot shower later, Dora slipped into a provided black tracksuit and stepped out of the bathroom. She found the female steward waiting for her, presenting a tray of first aid items.
"If you'll allow my people to see to your injuries," Talia said, lounging from the sofa and pulling from a small hookah. "I'd rather not Jason blame me for the wear and tear you took tonight."
Dora looked at the steward, a girl around her age. "Go ahead." She sat down in an armchair facing Talia. The steward put the first aid kit on the table, snapped on some vinyl gloves and got to work.
Talia took a long draw from the hookah and sighed. "Please allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Talia al Ghul and I'm the person that saved Jason's life. I personally brought him back from the dead, and looked after him the eight years he's been away from Gotham."
Dora's eyes widened; her assumptions shattered. This woman knew Jason from the start of his disappearance. So chronologically… that meant Talia had known Jason longer than Dora.
That meant she was …
"You're…" Dora began but flinched as the steward applied disinfectant to the cuts on her face. She eyed the steward for a long moment, then at Talia. "Wait, can we…"
"Oh, our conversation is privileged. Everything we share will stay between us, and it will not be repeated by any third party in my service." Talia caught the eyes of the steward. "Under penalty of death." She nodded, and the steward nodded back.
Things were very clear to Dora now. "You're from the League of Assassins."
Talia raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so he has mentioned us?"
Dora ran through her recollection of Jason's stories. "He mentioned the League saved him, trained him."
Scoffing, Talia rolled her eyes, "No, darling. I'm sorry to be the one that tells you this, but Jason is… not quite a liar… but he has a habit of withholding the full truth. He claims it's operational security. But lately, I've begun to question whether it's to protect others…" A toke of the hookah. "… or to protect himself."
Dora did not need telling. That ugly truth was breaking her heart, little by little.
Talia put down her pipe and pushed aside her drink. She leaned forward. "It was me, not the League. Me. The League of Assassins is my army. I saved Jason. I nursed him back to health. I recruited him. I cultivated his talents."
"You're the leader of the League of Assassins?"
Talia's nostril twitched at that. "Yes."
"You made Jason into Red Hood?"
Talia's jaw clenched. "Yes, I did. I taught Jason many things, and what I couldn't teach, I curated. I gave him an education like no other student I ever had, the same education…" She paused. "… my father gave me. I sent Jason around the world to learn from the best—martial arts, marksmanship, military tactics, grifting, trafficking, pyro-chemistry, engineering… I did what many have tried before. Hone his anger, refocus it."
The steward finally finished cleaning and taping the cuts on Dora's face with wound strips. As she left, Talia moved closer to Dora and handed her a compact mirror. Grimacing at the damage, Dora still had to admit the steward did decent job, no better than she could have.
After hesitating a moment, Dora took out the burner phone and snapped a selfie. She texted, "I'm fine. At marina with Talia."
"You tried to make Jason's anger into a weapon," Dora said, putting the phone away.
Talia nodded. "My weapon."
"And then he left," Dora said, understanding. "He hates being told what to do."
"Your timeline is off, but yes. I sent Jason to Gotham with a very clear mission. Take back the city and show Batman how ineffective his methods are. He gladly undertook the task. However, I should have known that Gotham would be too personal for him. I neglected to account for his passion, his… obstinance. When he returned to his home city, he could not bury and forget the past. He began pursuing a personal vendetta that would jeopardize the mission."
"A vendetta?" Dora asked. "You mean revenge?"
"Yes. I was worried Jason would lose sight of the original goal…" Talia's voice softened. "… but then you came along. Either he's forgotten about his vendetta, or not felt the need to pursue it. Because of you."
Dammit, Dora cursed to herself. She felt like crying. This is the third person in less than a week that has told me that I'm the only thing holding Jason back from completely losing his shit.
"But who? Are the mission and his vendetta really mutually exclusive?" Dora sniffled, holding back tears.
"Yes, because this person… Jason knows that pursuing revenge against this person could mean his death, his ruin. Jason... may be willing to die trying." Talia shook her head, and Dora noticed her eyes had gotten misty as well. "And Dora, I honestly think… even if he succeeds… he might not be able to live with himself."
Dora's heart skipped a beat, aching. Perhaps because it knew that Talia was right.
"It's you, Dora. The reason he's set aside vengeance, his hatred of this person. You're the reason he wants to live." Talia sat straighter. "But lately, as I'm sure you've noticed, he's losing touch. The longer this mission drags on, the more pieces of his soul chip away, the more vengeance takes over."
"I…" Dora hesitated, debating sharing a truth with Talia, but it seemed that this Talia knew as much about Jason as Batman did. And it seemed like she was more willing to save him than Batman was. "I… been trying to convince him to abandon the mission. To retire with me. He's done enough. Are you… are you willing to let him do that?"
"I knew I could trust you. And I have faith you can do it. I knew it in the arena, when I saw the way you both look at each other." Talia reached out and cupped Dora's good cheek softly. "So yes. Yes, I am willing to let him abandon the mission. I will take it on myself. It should have been me all along." She paused. "Until now… I regretted my decision to set Jason upon Gotham, but now I am glad I did, because he found you. Perhaps you will save the part of Jason I neglected. The part I left behind. His soul."
"Then I need to know everything." Dora brushed off Talia's hand and looked her hard in the eyes. "What aren't you telling me? Who is his vendetta against? Who does he hate so much?"
Dora asked herself, Who does he hate as much as I hate Black Mask?
"Bruce Wayne." Talia sighed, her head down. "Jason wants to kill Bruce Wayne."
Notes
Apologies. I tried my best to make Talia's personality close the the comics, or even her portrayals in Arrow and The Dark Knight Rises… but dammit, I'm in the middle of watching Daredevil, and she decided to impersonate Elektra. Oh well, still think this personality serves the story well.
Seems like everyone has a opinion about Dora's relationship, but do they matter? Should she listen to them? Or her heart?
**Minor spoiler warning for the comics: The Lost Days, Batman and Son. ** Some context you might need to fully understand this scene: In The Lost Days, Talia references some other storyline (that I didn't read) where Ra's al Ghul died. She blames Bruce. But she still loves him. So she wants Jason to punish Bruce by being a better Batman than him, but NOT kill him. My speculation/headcanon: it's because of Damian, because the Batman and Son arc happens literally the next year. For me, this is also why I made her willing to take up Jason's mission if he abandons it.
Song Reference: "My Sweet Shadow" by In Flames. It's a very cryptic song very open to interpretation, but I like to listen to it from Talia's point of view.
Version 42.1