Batgirl, in investigating the possible return of the terrorist organization known as The Council, stumbled it's cloned soldiers who're trying their best to resurrect their former organization. Unfortunately, she's not the only one. Former allies of Paul Kirk, who gave his life to stop the Council the first time and a clone of the same hero have all converged, forcing Cassandra to ride herd on a team filled with petty grudges.
Thus far, the experience has been a failure. The clone soldiers have successfully kidnapped six children who, for reasons unknown, are vital to their plan to revive the Council. They have invaded Blackgate in search of additional soldiers and arranged a distraction to cover their activities.
All Cassandra Cain has to prevent a plan years in the making and now backed by hundreds of Gotham's worst criminals besides herself…is a mix of allies she has learned not to trust.
&&&
DC Infinity Presents
Batgirl # 11
Nature's War
Conclusion
These Boys of Brazil
&&&
Gotham, Blackgate Prison
Batgirl swung her foot into the gut of the first criminal standing in front of her. They came as her as a human wave, and Batgirl knew that unless she acted fast she'd be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
She reached into her utility belt and removed two whirl a blades. They looked like Hs curved inwardly and were connected to a small but powerful motors tied to special switches in Batgirl's glove that could tell the shape of her hand. When held flat, the blades spun with enough force to cut through leather. But if they were in any other position, the blades remained perfectly still.
Batgirl allowed the blades to spin, and almost instantly the prison crowd jumped back. Mind controlled or not, a fear of blades was an instinct that ran back thousands of years and right now, it was all that prevented Batgirl from being overwhelmed.
Scanning the crowd, the Daughter of Cain looked for any hostages, any men who carried themselves with any authority. As luck would have it, she saw none. Everyone standing before her was a Gotham convict, not a Council minion.
In Batgirl's mind, that was both a blessing and curse. She had jumped out of the helicopter in anticipation of hostages, that the clones had some form of insurance in the event they were discovered before they escaped.
Wracking her brain for a moment, Batgirl wondered what to make of that. Hostages were a good insurance policy in a situation like this and by now they had plenty of time to present them That there were no hostages either meant they were highly confident of their plan, or were rushed.
Batgirl hoped for the former, but suspected the latter was the case. The botched pickup last night likely spooked them and they moved up their timetable drastically, and that made them sloppy, careless in their rush to preserve their original plan.
Her enemy's mix of caution and urgency was both a blessing and a curse to the young crime fighter. While she hadn't found any hostages like she'd expected, her enemies were smart enough not to rely completely on the mind-control gas that they'd employed on the prison. There wasn't a single gun to be seen, which made Batgirl's problem a little simpler.
All she had to do now was fight her way pass hundreds of Gotham convicts to reach the barge sitting ninety yards away.
Just as that thought passed through her mind, the first convict screwed up his courage and charged. Batgirl readied herself, only to watch in shock as the man was thrown back, his shoulder exploding in a spray of bone and blood.
"No one dies," hissed Batgirl as she replaced the blades in her utility belt, and exchanged them for a pair of stainless steel brass knuckles. In a situation like this, she didn't have the time to be gentle.
"That depends on them, kid, it's their choice," answered Manhunter, smoke still wafting out of the barrel of his gun.
"No," growled Batgirl as she punched aside the first criminal of hundreds, "it depends on you…and what state you want to leave Gotham in. Walking, or body cast. That is…your choice."
Manhunter was still considering the threat when he turned around to face the six foot six giant who was bearing down on him. Kirk had his weapon raised, but watched in amazement as the giant suddenly fell forward, as if a light had been shut off in his brain.
Watching such a potentially dangerous foe fall should have been reassuring, but Manhunter tensed when he saw why the man had fallen.
"Cain," Batgirl and Manhunter said the name at once, each with different emotion.
David Cain, world famous assassin, stood before them in a torn prison jumpsuit, two 45s in each hand dripping blood and sweating dripping off his face.
"If you killed anyone…" Batgirl started, but Cain raised his hands, motioning for calm.
"No one's dead, sweetheart. I've got a few friends who tipped me off something was going to happen," explained Cain hastily, "so I swiped a gas mask from the armory, just in case. You ought to thank me, too. I took out the team holding the hostages."
"Fine," Batgirl gritted her teeth and carefully weighed her options. Her father was one of the foremost fighters in the world, but she didn't want to fight alongside him for a host of reasons, tactical and emotional. But as the saying Nightwing taught her, 'beggars can't be choosy', "you can help…I need you to hold off…"
Batgirl swept her eyes across the battlefield and realized that St. Clair and Nitobe were nowhere to be seen. They hadn't followed her…
For a brief moment, Batgirl wanted to die. She allowed her emotions to influence her into making mistake after mistake until there was only a slim window of opportunity for success. One that was closing quickly.
"I need… to get to that boat," snapped Batgirl, "you two, give me cover!"
"That's my girl," smiled Cain.
"Your girl…?" Manhunter asked. He glanced back and forth between the two, noting their combat stances, the tension between them, "…explains a lot."
Batgirl ignored him and thumbed her radio, "Oracle, respond!"
"I'm guessing you found something at Blackgate."
"I found the Council," Batgirl decked a man imprisoned for armed robbery as she and her allies inched closer to the boat, "I need two things from you."
"Name it."
"First, I need a King meet," Batgirl let loose with three bataranges, "arrange for immediate contact for later relocation."
"Done. What else?"
"I need you…to connect me…to a detective."
&&&
Peter Akins shifted through dozens of declassified DEO records, hoping in vain to find something that might help him deal with the cloned corpse that had washed up several days earlier. It wasn't as if there was a great deal of pressure to solve it from the higher ups. Cape cases had a reputation of either resolved themselves or stayed open until hell froze over. They weren't expecting any miracles.
All the same, though, Akins didn't like to just quit on a case. It was a nasty habit for any cop to get into, especially for a rookie detective trying to earn a little respect. Hard work would be the only way he could ever hope to escape the shadow cast over him because of his family lineage.
But determination in and of itself never produced clues, and Peter was close to smashing his computer in frustration when he heard his phone ring.
"Detective Akins…"
The Gotham Detective froze instantly. The more senior detectives said that you never forgot the voice of a 'Bat', and Peter now knew they weren't kidding.
"Batgirl…" for a moment, Detective Akins considered taking an aggressive stance, to demand answers of the mysterious vigilante.
But then he remembered that not only were they on the same side, he had no leads whatsoever.
"…go ahead. Did you find something?"
"Blackgate," Batgirl drove her elbow into a three year prisoner who had more tattoos on his arms than hair on his head, "it's been…compromised."
"What!" Peter barely noticed how half the squad had turned their head at his outburst, "that's impossible! There are a million protocols…"
"And they were expertly… compromised. Tell…someone," Batgirl drop kicked another convict, and tried to remember what she'd practiced earlier, "…spin it. Say you got a tip. Just get people here, now!"
Batgirl terminated the connection as she downed another convict. While she was confident that Detective Akins would eventually rally Gotham PD to Blackgate, she was under no illusions how long that might take. There would be no quick rescue, no quick save to even the odds. If anything, all she had done was, possibly prevent a mass escape when this was all over.
The trio of martial artists moved through the crowd like a brutally efficient machine. Batgirl led the charge, softening the mob up with a flurry of smoke pellets and flares, followed up by blows of the world's greatest martial artist. Manhunter covered their back with his enhanced strength, bundhi dagger and as last resort, modified luger. Cain, one of the world's greatest assassins and expert hand to hand combatant, covered them both.
It took the three of them a full ten minutes to make their way to the dock. Ten minutes of combat that made every last one of them sweat bullets. Even warriors of their caliber had limits.
"Defend the …uhh…" Batgirl drove her elbow into a felon's face as she struggled for the right word. Even in pitch battle, she self conscious about it seemed as if she could remember the word she was looking for, yet couldn't seem to actually grasp it.
"Catwalk, baby girl," David Cain answered for her, "that I can do. You and Manhunter hurry though, I'm good, but I'm still an old man."
Batgirl and Manhunter didn't have to be told twice. They raced up the catwalk. Cain took a deep breath, and then regarded the gathered criminals through narrowed eyes.
"Ya know…there just might be enough of you to make this a fair fight."
&&&
The moment Batgirl's foot touched the metal deck of the freighter, she was scanning the area for Christine St. Clair and Asano Nitobe. The two had doubtlessly reached the freighter before them, but Batgirl didn't think that two experienced operators like St. Clair and Nitobe would enter into a scenario where they had enemies at both their back and front, if it could possibly be avoided. And since they had no interest in preventing what was going to happen to the kidnapped children, only ending it, they could wait.
So both Batgirl Manhunter eyed the bridge, the perfect's sniper's nest, for any movement, any shadow out of place. Just as Batgirl switched her mask lenses infrared, she saw the muzzle fire of a high powered rifle, heard several distinctive –spak!- and watched as Manhunter, his chest covered in blood, crumbled to the deck.
Batgirl grabbed the fallen clone and dragged him to cover behind a nearby air vent. It wasn't easy, there wasn't an ounce on Manhunter's body that wasn't muscle, and bullets slammed into the deck around her, but Batgirl shrugged off the danger. First, the rounds were sub-sonic, something her uniform could stop if need be, and second if St. Clair wanted to hit her, she'd have done it already.
"Burns a little…" grunted Manhunter.
Batgirl nodded. St. Clair and Nitobe had experience hunting Paul Kirk clones, so it was no surprise that they developed special weapons for hurting them.
Batgirl withdrew the sharpest knife she had in her belt, and handed it to the clone, "Get the bullets out. I'll deal with them."
"Good luck."
Batgirl leapt out from behind the vent and sprinted towards the bridge. Bullets pinged all around her, but the Daughter of Cain knew how to evade even the best sniper. She bobbed and weaved, and changed her pace randomly so that the sniper couldn't simply aim where she would be.
Though such tactics on more open ground might not have worked, Batgirl only had to cross two hundred and knew instinctively that the sniper wasn't trying to kill her, just ward her off.
Still, Batgirl preferred to be careful. She removed the final smoke pellet from her belt and pitched it towards St. Clair's sniper's nest. Within seconds the entire bridge was covered in a thick, choking smoke.
The cloud would linger for several minutes, but that was more than enough time for her reach the bridge and slip below deck.
Batgirl had just begun to reach for the hatch door when she realized that it had been too easy. She saw something out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she realized what it was, it was too late.
A weighted chain wrapped itself around her, and Batgirl felt herself jerked backwards.
Asano Nitobe's sword glimmered in the moonlight, and Batgirl stepped aside at the last moment, just barely avoiding a strike that would have disabled her left side. Nitobe might not have been aiming to kill, but he definitely wasn't pulling his punches.
Which was fine with Batgirl. The events of the past several days did not leave her inclined to be merciful.
Nitobe expected her to pull away, So Batgirl stepped forward and head-butted the ninja, breaking his demon mask in half. Her enemy retaliated with a solid kick to the mid riff that she couldn't dodge in time.
Batgirl fell on her back, while Nitobe lunged at her with his sword again. If he intended to disembowel her or inflict a fatal wound to force her to withdraw, the daughter of Destruction had no intention of finding out. She swung her legs up, and Nitobe's eyes bulged behind his mask when she caught his sword perfectly between her boots and held it there like a vice.
The World War 2 era ninja stumbled, giving Batgirl enough time to swing the blade to the side and then rolled back, clipping Nitobe in the face with her boot.
Leaping to her feet, Batgirl released a snap kick that floored the elder martial artist, knocking him on his back. Batgirl, not one to waste an opening, flipped head over heels and her boot down on Asano's stomach, knocking him into unconsciousness.
Batgirl slid the chains off easily, and used them to hog tie the elder ninja, followed up by breaking a gas pellet under his nose. While that might have been considered extreme with anyone else, Batgirl knew that it took at least this much effort to slow her down.
And when children's lives were at stake, it was impossible for Cassandra or Batgirl to even consider taking unnecessary chances.
&&&
Gotham Central Rail Station
On the average day, Gotham's rails had hundreds of passengers inside it's historical walls. Though few came to Gotham for pleasure, in fact Gotham's percentage for visiting tourists was twenty percent less than other cities of equal or greater size, it was still a major hub and business was always brisk. There were always businessmen who worked with Wayne Enterprises, tourists foolish enough to be enticed by Gotham's seedy underbelly and today, one lost young woman who once considered herself a heroine, despite the disgusting villainy of certain family members.
As she stepped off the train, she felt like Daniel in the Lion's den, only without any divine protection. It had been days since she had really had a good night's sleep, hunted by a shadow she knew to be there. She'd come to Gotham looking for help from an old friend but as she began to drift through the station, the young woman began to realize she had no idea how to contact her.
And when she did find her, what would she say? What would she do?
Stumbling like a zombie out of the station, she clutched to the small thread of hope, that she actually could find her friend in this city of millions, before it was too late.
&&&
"What's happening?"
"Why are am I here? Where's my dad?"
"…please, I didn't do anything, let me go, I'll be good!"
"Please, I know this is scary," answered Peter in his calmest, most reassuring voice that he could muster, "but I just ask that you trust me. I don't intend to hurt any of you."
His reassurances were as effective as a piece of paper acting as a bullet proof vest. The kids, terrified almost out of their minds, continued to beg and plead for freedom. And though Peter truly believed in what he was doing, their cries burned his heart. He was not an evil man by any means.
"They will thank you when this is over," Peter reminded himself, believing every word.
The clone of Manhunter checked the equipment three times now, and despite the fact that he only vaguely believed in a God greater than The Council, found himself praying without even realizing it.
He was in the cargo hold, the only open area on the boat large enough to contain the equipment for the final phase of their operation. The six boys that they'd recovered (kidnapped implied immorality) where strapped to six chairs, their heads shaved and specially designed helmets placed carefully on their young heads. Behind the boys, specially designed CPUs and servers sat, going through intricate diagnostics before it began its original purpose. The margin for error was non-existent, not for what these computers were designed for.
Peter had done this already once before, and that's what worried him. He and his brothers had resurrected their masters, The Council, once already and it had all been for naught. Black Adam and his allies had crushed them effortlessly, and even if they succeeded now The Council would be weaker than it ever had been.
A bullet rushed past Peter's ear and he instantly flew into action. He grabbed his side arm, calculated where the sniper had to be and opened fire.
St. Clair, who made her sniper's next atop one of the many containers in the cargo hold, rolled to the side and into the thick shadows. Though St. Clair's law enforcement training didn't cover stealth much, Nitobe had been kind enough to give her a few pointers.
Unfortunately, the clone of Paul Kirk had been amongst the first created, and had trained with Asano Nitobe extensively. He expected her to take refuge in the darkness, and fired shot after shot. None of them came too close to her, but the Interpol agent could feel her enemy drawing closer with each shot, and knew she couldn't stay hidden forever.
Peter, in the heat of the moment, expended his magazine faster than he anticipated, not bothering to count his shots, and like an amateur, froze with it clicked empty.
St. Clair sprang into action, leaping from the shadows, leveling her high powered rifle at Peter's head…and then stopped.
The clone was in her sights, but St. Clair realized that the high caliber bullets that she was using would easily tear through its grey matter and hit one of the children.
Stalemate.
"Why did you kidnap those kids?" St. Clair demanded as she tried to inch into a better position. She hoped that if she could buy enough time, she might be able to subtly get into a better position to take him out without collateral that hadn't even started second grade.
"Like I would ever tell an enemy like…"
"They're the Council…" Batgirl's voice echoed through the cargo hold, "contingency plan. When… if died…their memories would be uploaded into younger bodies."
Despite herself, Christine St. Clair glanced towards the children, and recalled the files on the Council. Their entire life's history had been extensively documented when they'd fallen and the faces of those boys, bound to metal examination chairs, brought on a case of major déjà vu. Her memory wasn't perfect, but Christine had an easy time believing Batgirl.
All of a sudden, it clicked into place. The Council had perfected cloning, that much was obvious from their creation of Paul Kirk clones. But transferring their minds, their memories and everything else, a feat like that had to be a hundred times harder. So instead of using it for themselves, they used it as a failsafe.
"Clones…." Christine breathed, "it always comes back to clones with the Council."
"Are you going to kill them?" asked Batgirl, still secure in her shadows.
"What? No!" St. Claire snapped, her weapon still leveled at Peter, "what kind of monster do you think I am?!"
"Those boys, aren't much older…than the clones you killed," Batgirl answered evenly, "the Council fell…eight years ago. Their oldest soldier…could only be ten. Maybe twelve…no matter what they…look like."
"I…I…" for a brief second, Christine St. Clair felt her rage at the Council, the people who'd turned her father against her and ultimately killed him and then taken her lover, slide away as she realized what Batgirl was saying. To her shame, she could think of no defense.
And seeing her hesitation, Peter lunged forward. His smacked her sniper rifle away with his right hand and nailed her in the face with his elbow.
But St. Clair had barely begun to fall when Peter felt two steel toed boots clip his skull. Even with his healing factor, his vision swam and his body refused to answer his commands.
"Stand down," Batgirl snarled, "or I will make you."
"I don't think so," Peter replied, "I think that you had to fight through that mob we have mind controlled out there and since I don't see sensei here, I bet you had to take him down too. I'd bet that you're exhausted right now, that's why you let me take down St. Clair. I know I'm a little worn, and I have a healing factor that keeps me moving."
Batgirl said nothing. She didn't bother to refute the clone's assertion, because he was completely right. She muscles ached and answered her only with a great deal of argument while every breath she took felt as if there wasn't enough air in the world. Perfect conditioning, strong body language and breathing exercises masked this all from casual observation, but not common sense. Batgirl was far from spent, but she wasn't in peak condition either.
In contrast, her foe was constantly in peak condition and while he couldn't match her in skill, he could certainly wear her down.
Batgirl realized that she couldn't afford to hold back, and removed two razor sharp batarangs from her belt, and clenched them in her hands. The edges of the weapons protruded from each end of her fist.
Peter drew a combat knife from his boot, flipped it into a reverse grip in his left hand, and stalked forward.
Peter threw the first blow, with the blade in his left hand aimed at Batgirl's shoulder, but it was little more than a feint. As Batgirl stepped back to avoid the attack, his right fist came rocketing towards her head.
Batgirl swung her left hand upwards to meet the attack, and embedded her batarang in her foe's wrist, and the momentum wedged the four forty surgical steel deeper into his arm, only stopping when it was fully between the ulna and radius. The fist stopped only a breath away from her face, but Batgirl didn't flinch.
She swung her right hand and caved a deep slice into Peter's belly while she twisted the batarang lodged in his wrist. Primal instincts took over and Peter tore his arm free, blood gushing from the wound.
Batgirl gave him no quarter, slamming the palms of both fists into the wound she's just opened. Peter crossed his arms in an X formation to defend the wound, and left himself exposed when Batgirl kicked him right above the knee with her steel toed heel.
The blow forced Peter to drop his defense, to stagger about as pain lanced through his body.
Batgirl lunged forward and swung both batarangs towards Peter, sinking them into his flesh several inches beneath the armpit, straight into a very sensitive nerve bundle.
Peter howled in unimaginable pain and though Batgirl never hesitated, she hated herself for what she did next. She then twisted the weapons down, and used them to pull Peter into a head-butt that broke his nose and sent blood streaming down the clone's face.
Peter, literally blind from the pain, lashed out instinctively and got lucky. He connected with a right cross that snapped Batgirl's head to the side.
The young crime-fighter stumbled backwards and fell to one knee, trying to blink the spots away from her vision. It was as if the entire night's physical extension had come back all at once. Fighting through a mob of criminals, overwhelming Nitobe, it all came back with a single, solid punch.
When she finally looked up, she saw that after all she had reigned down upon him, her foe was still standing, clutching wounds that had almost completely healed.
Batgirl did a mental inventory of her weapons and found herself wondering, just how far would she go to win? She had twice the amount of explosives she needed to take off both his arms and legs, she had the skill, but she didn't need Batman here to tell her that she'd be crossing a line there. Worse, the children had a perfect view. She didn't know what effect seeing a man's limb blown off would have on them, but she knew it wouldn't be pleasant.
As if she didn't have enough to deal with, Batgirl saw St. Clair beginning to stir out of the corner of her eye. And she knew that if she waited too long, St. Clair might become involved in the fight, and either end up dead or end up killing Peter. Neither was acceptable to the young crime-fighter, but she could feel her options slipping away.
Batgirl looked at the captive children, and then back to Peter, and realized that she still had one card to play.
"I'll stand aside," Batgirl offered with the outward appearance of sincerity but possessing none of the spirit, "…if you look those boys in the eye…and tell them why they deserve to die."
Both St. Clair and Peter took a step back, but for different reasons. St. Clair wanted to say something, but wisely choose to remain quite. She didn't need a neon sign to tell her Batgirl had a plan in mind, and for now, she'd let the young woman play her hand.
"I have no intention of killing them!" shouted Peter, "I'm just opening their eyes to their destiny!"
"You're killing them," Batgirl corrected, "you're erasing their personalities and replacing them with the memories of the first Council."
"Their personalities won't be erased!" Peter snapped, "their memories will just be…be overlain…!"
"Is that how you rationalize it?" St. Clair climbed to feet, but refrained from any hostile movements, preferring to give Batgirl's strategy a chance, "the minds of eighty year old men would drown any child, and you know that!"
"Shut up!" Peter's hands trembled for his weapons, but he refused to attack, not like this. All his life, he believed in the moral righteousness of The Council. He knew that he served them not because of learned obedience, but because they were a force for good in the world.
"Did you even give…them a choice?" asked Batgirl, "it's their lives!"
"No, it's their destiny!" Peter roared, his face bright red with anger, "they are the tools that will save this world!"
"They're kids!" St. Clair snapped.
"I will not be lectured by you!" Peter pointed an accusing finger at the Interpol agent, "you, who hunt down my brothers to 'honor' a dead man! You, who treat us as pale shades of Paul Kirk, undeserving of life! Like flies to be swatted! Don't you dare lecture me!"
"You choose…to serve…the Council?" asked Batgirl.
"Of course! I'm not some drone like my brothers! I made a choice and I know in my heart why I serve!"
"You were born with a choice," Batgirl said softly and then pointed to the children Peter held, "you made yours. So why…are you trying to take it from them?"
"I…that's not…" the clone warrior found himself paralyzed with indecision, no longer able to justify his actions to himself.
Batgirl watched as doubt spread across his face, and wondered if her words had truly had an impact, or had merely brought to the surface the struggle within his own conscience.
"You are your own person," Batgirl said evenly, "not a shade…not a flawed copy. You are…you. And only you can decide…if you become a murderer."
St. Clair waited with baited breath, but with each second that passed Batgirl began to feel more and more confident. Peter's body language began to whisper doubt, followed by waves of guilt and shame, though all anyone they were little more than ripples across his face.
Finally, Batgirl could see that the battle that raged within Peter had been decided as the clone's posture became straighter, his demeanor taking on a hard edge.
Batgirl tensed for a moment, well aware of how mercurial human nature could be. Peter certainly seemed to be a good man, at least in his own mind but he might have decided that he was already done too much to change his ways now, or decided that his loyalty to The Council outweighed any sin they might ask of him.
But Batgirl's doubts evaporated when Peter looked at her, and just nodded, almost unperceivable.
"I'll make this right," said the clone.
Batgirl stepped aside and motioned for Peter to pass.
"Are you insane?!" St. Clair shouted, "stop him!"
"I don't like you lecturing me either," growled Batgirl. Christine St. Clair said nothing in reply, but made no move to stop Peter.
When he reached the controls for the memory upload machine that had been intended to revive his former masters, Peter found he almost wanted to cry. He was never a man to ignore his conscience, but he was prided himself on his loyalty, his stiff upper chin in the face of adversity.
When the first Council fell, he was personally responsible for its phoenix rise. His masters were willing to lavish any rewarded upon him, but all he asked then was to be allowed to continue his duties faithfully.
Now, he found himself acting as their executioner.
He pressed a single button, and the bonds holding the children in place released. The six young boys scrambled off the seats as if their lives depended on it.
"It's okay now," Batgirl reassured the children, "please…come with me."
The children packed together, and didn't budge. Batgirl wasn't terribly surprised. Though she wasn't that experienced socially with children, she suspected that a costume intended for both stealth and intimidation wasn't exactly reassuring to young children.
"It's alright now," St. Clair said in her most reassuring voice, "she won't hurt you. We're here to get you out."
Batgirl scowled beneath her mask about how easily the children flocked to St. Clair, who under different circumstances might have hunted the children down and killed them.
"Peter, are you coming?" asked Batgirl. She didn't like that look he had on his face.
"No, someone must…see to the Council's legacy," answered the clone, "you have forty minutes."
"You don't have to stay," Batgirl offered, "it isn't worth your life."
"My entire creation, my life, has been a lie. Allow me this one truth. Please."
Batgirl turned to go, with a heavy heart. As much as it gnawed at her conscience, she didn't have it in her to stop Peter's suicide. She was too tired, and more to the point, she knew that even if she saved him now, he would just seek out his own death later and possibly in a more dangerous fashion. Batgirl knew from personal experience that the only way to overcome a death-wish was to look death in the face…and then make a choice.
She made her choice long ago. Now she could only hope that Peter would make the right choice when his moment came.
St. Clair and Batgirl led the children out of the hold silently, and then they reached the deck she motioned for them to stop.
Batgirl glanced around the barge, and saw the familiar red and blue of Gotham PD beginning to arrive at Blackgate. She motioned for the children to stop.
"I need to take them…out of here," Batgirl stated, "it's not safe. You need to warn…the police about what will happened."
"Alright," St. Clair sighed, "look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry…"
"Save it," Batgirl growled, "make sure the police are clear. After that…I never want to see any of you… in Gotham again. If I do…it will be unpleasant."
St. Clair, though far from intimidated, just nodded. All things considered, she wasn't surprised by the animosity Batgirl held for her, and now that the Council was finally finished, she saw no more need to play nice with the cape and cowl crowd. Truth be told, she never wanted to return to Gotham. The city held too many memories, too much history. It was finally time to move on.
"Come with me," Batgirl ordered the children, "we need to leave, now."
The young boys, to whom Batgirl seemed to be some terrible specter who might eat their face if they got any closer, refused to budge.
"You can trust me," said Batgirl, as she wracked her brains how she might convince them of that fact. She didn't want them to know that they were young clones of evil scientists and that people in the government would doubtlessly seek to exploit their genius in amazingly unethical ways, "I'll take you home, I promise."
"Can't we wait for the police?" asked one of the smarter boys.
"It's okay kiddo, she's with us."
When Batgirl heard the voice, she had to resist the urge to spin around and break the speaker's jaw. Batgirl glanced over her shoulder and saw David Cain, her father, approaching in a stolen policeman's uniform. At first she wanted to know how he got it, but then she saw how the children instinctively reacted to Cain. Unaware of the deception, these frightened boys began to relax.
As much as she hated it, she needed Cain now. And he knew it.
"It's very complicated and I don't have the time to explain it here," Batgirl watched as Cain moved just like a cop, casual authority in every step, "plus, I'm sure you all want to get home, I bet your parents are worried sick!"
The boys nodded or weakly replied in affirmation, a lifetime of being taught to instinctively obey authority figures quickly taking over. The boys followed Cain, one of the deadliest assassins in the world, with barely a second thought.
"There's a lifeboat over there," Cain pointed, "we'll use that."
Batgirl nodded in affirmation, but said nothing.
"Hey, wait up!" The father and daughter duo turned their head to see Kirk Depaul sprinting towards them, "I need to hitch a ride. Gotham PD isn't that fond of me, and I'd just as soon avoid the hassle."
"I'll handle this," Batgirl told her father, "give me a minute."
"Understood," Cain waved the children towards the lifeboat as Batgirl stepped in Manhunter's way.
"Hey, what's…"
Batgirl punched the clone in the throat first, followed up by slamming her foot into his groin and finished when she rammed her elbow into his face.
"You're still working for Luthor," said Batgirl, her voice low and deadly, "that's how those…mercenaries found the meeting location. That's how you got the…mind control gas."
Manhunter wiped some blood away from his mouth, "I don't know what…"
Batgirl's next punch loosened three teeth.
"Okay, okay…!" Manhunter spat a glob of blood on the deck, "yeah, I did Luthor a favor. He's not a man you say no to, and I'm not inclined to spend the rest of my life running from them. Win-win."
"Get out of my sight…" Batgirl growled, "and don't ever…"
"Come back to Gotham, yeah I know. Daddy Bat give me the same speech," Manhunter waved his hand through the air dismissively, "no one comes to Gotham because they have to."
&&&
Cain lowered the lifeboat into the water, and Batgirl supplied a code that would broadcast a secret black-ops military code that basically translated into 'keep away'. As they left Blackgate behind, Batgirl saw how dozens upon dozens of Swat and Gotham PD swarmed the island and began wraggling the hundreds of felons that had been released.
Surprisingly, that didn't look nearly as hard as it sounded. According to Cain (though Batgirl hadn't asked), whatever was controlling the prison began to wear off and had a side effect of pacifying those exposed to it. Criminals and guards alike milled about, uncertain of anything.
Batgirl directed her father, using as few words as possible, to a dock on the edge of Gotham. When Cain pulled the boat, he saw Black Canary, Green Arrow and Batman waiting on the dock.
"Oracle told me everything," Batman said to Batgirl without formalities, "we can take it from here."
Batgirl nodded. After the universal crisis, her mentor, along with a number of other super heroes, had seized control of the spy agency known as Checkmate and begun running it themselves. Though Cassandra was still uncertain of what to make of this change, today she was grateful for it. Batgirl knew instinctively that there were only a few people in the world she could trust with a half dozen preteen super geniuses.
"Come on kids, we'll get you back where you belong!" Green Arrow's smile came easy, and the children flocked to the modern day Robin Hood and began to ask him a barrage of questions about his career. The scary Bats, their fears about what was happening, everything was swept aside by seeing the Emerald Archer, "and if you ask nice, I'll show you a few bow tricks!"
"You're welcome," grunted David Cain.
"I believe you are done here, Cain," Batman's growl was almost animalistic. The contempt Batman felt for the aged killer, on a bad day, was even greater than the contempt he felt for the Joker. Not only had David Cain brutally killed a woman Batman loved and framed Bruce Wayne for the murder, but he had abused his daughter for eight long years under the pretense of 'training'. At least The Joker had the excuse of being completely insane. David Cain was just a ruthless bastard, in Batman's eyes.
Batgirl stood midway between the two, uncertain of what she should feel, let alone say.
But Cain wasn't about to make the daughter he loved choose between them. He turned towards his daughter, nodded, and then pulled the boat out to open waters. Batgirl knew that come sunrise, Cain would be back in his jail cell.
"Oracle tells me you prevented the return of The Council," Batman said evenly, "good work."
For a moment, Cassandra's heart pounded. Praise from Him was rare, and it always made her feel like she'd accomplished something.
But then she remembered how St. Clair and her entourage had killed countless Paul Kirk clones, how they ran them down like dogs and shot them in the street. This happened in Gotham, and Batman did nothing.
"About St. Clair…" Batgirl began.
"I was wrong," Batman finished the thought for her, "I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Before, Batgirl could never imagine Batman saying those words to anyone, let alone her. But now, after everything, it brought her an odd sense of satisfaction, of vindication.
"What happens to them…now?"
Batman glanced towards the young children swarming around Green Arrow, "We'll track down the foster families they were originally placed with. Explain it to those who can handle it, lie to those who can't. If things go right, they'll just have normal lives likely followed by extraordinary careers in science. Whatever they choose to do with their lives, it's really up to them."
All this blood, sweat and tears, all this effort, just for six children to be able to choose their own lives, free to live their lives how they saw fit, despite the will of others to use them as pawns in evil schemes. Batgirl reflected on that for a moment, and felt unusually satisfied.
Next Issue: Cassandra spends a day at school, gets a new advisor…and we learn just who the blond heroine is. Be here for Justice's Salvation!