A/N: Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter Four: Rope

I couldn't sleep.

After confirming that there were indeed thirty-six ceiling tiles for the seventh time, I rolled out of bed, stripped out of my clothes and took a quick shower. The Tower felt small, claustrophobic, and I knew I needed to get out there, get to the streets. I tossed the towel in the bin and put on my uniform. I rolled my neck and ritualistically daubed spirit gum on the back of my mask. My eyes closed slowly as I put the mask on and stopped being Dick Grayson. I became Nightwing.

I checked in on all the other dorm rooms, and everyone seemed to be okay. Garfield was snoring, and Vic was in self-repair mode. Rae and Kory were both awake and meditating together, and I couldn't help but crack a slight grin. I reminded myself to check in once I had some information, and soon found myself in the tube car that ran from the Tower to our private garage. Well, honestly, it was my private garage, and my motorcycles were all lined up right where I left them.

I straddled one of the high performance models and brought it to life. It growled like an angry beast, and I felt like one too. I needed answers and drove off to get them.

It was a good thing I already knew where to start.

The Old Warehouse District was now a mishmash of nightclubs, chain restaurants, bars, and loft apartments. It was a well-lit gathering spot for everyone, but just up the hill was a very poor neighborhood that seemed to teeter on the edge of anarchy. I used the packed together rooftops to make my way to Eleven Twenty-Nine Didio Avenue. It was a shut down convenience store that, at night, served as a drive through drug dealer's warehouse. Pushers came through to pick up their supplies from the middleman, a Czech called Lenny.

I watched the op from the full canopy of an oak across the street. Slow night.

Perfect.

I pulled a zip line from the front hip pouch, fired, and steadied myself for the ridiculously powerful pull. The line went taught and I felt like I got shot from a cannon as the zip line pulled me across the street. I tucked, flipped a few times and landed lightly on my toes before pressing to the wall. One of the four guards turned the corner, and I silently put him down with a quick sedative injection. The sudden irony wasn't lost on me as I dragged the sleeping gunsel behind the dumpster. I emptied my packets of tranquilizers and pitched them in the trash.

Speaking of trash…

I contorted myself a little and slipped through the unbarred transom window over the back door. It was so much easier before I filled out, but that's life I guess. Lenny was talking loudly on his cell phone, in Russian. I caught every third word, but Lenny was complaining to his higher ups that it was a slow night, and they still had a lot of product. Good to know.

I used the corner of the room and slowly climbed up to the ceiling, placing one hand and one foot on two walls. The ceiling tiles had long since corroded, and I was in the rusty steel rafters. It smelled of rat droppings up there, and I heard them scurry away as I crawled up and across the room. Lenny closed his phone with a loud snap and talked to the guards.

I took a deep breath and jumped through the old ceiling.

Fifteen seconds, and two mini-smoke grenades, later the goons were down, and I had Lenny pinned against the wall.

"Hello, Lenny," I growled. "I've got a question and you're going to answer it for me."

"You're dead, pretty boy!" he snapped.

I pulled him off the wall and body slammed him on the desk, my hands still gripping his shirt collar. "Wrong! You're supposed to say, 'What's your question?'"

"Wh-what's your question?" he said as I rolled him and twisted his arm painfully.

"Who is dealing Rope?"

I let his arm relax just slightly.

"Rope?" he squawked. "Are you kidding me?"

I yanked his arm again and twisted his wrist so hard I heard his bones grind together. "Do I sound like I'm joking?" I growled as he screamed.

"I don't know!" he pleaded as he pounded the table with is free hand.

I snarled, "Find out."

I put my knee into his back and pulled out his ledger book. He started to protest, but a twist of his arm around my calf silenced him.

"Hmm," I mused, "I'm sure Ivan would love to know how much you've been skimming, there Lenny."

"He'd kill me!"

I looked around as Lenny's goons started to stir. "I'm going to give you forty-eight hours to give me a list of every Rope dealer in the Jump City area," I snarled. "One second late, and you'll wish I turned this over to the cops."