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DC Infinity Presents

Batgirl # 12

Salvation Run

"Harsh Wind."

Part 1

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Thomas Wayne High School, Gotham City

Marnie Herrs glanced at the clock in her office, and then drummed her fingers impatiently. Her appointment was already ten minutes later with no sign that she was on her way, and considering the girl was her responsibility, it was a little embarrassing. Another three minutes past, and that's when Marnie knew it was time to take action and bring the teenager to her, "I'm sorry, Cassandra's usually very good about being on time. And when she's not, I generally know where she is."

"I understand," replied the young woman, "time can fly when you're studying."

"Ironically, she's not supposed to actually be studying," Marnie pushed her chair back and stood up, "would you please excuse me for a moment? I think I know where our wayward student is. I'll just be a moment."

"Take your time, please. I'm in no rush."

Marnie Herrs walked out of the counselor's wing at a brisk pace. Her newest charge was an odd one in many ways and though she supposed that a new student missing an appointment should bother her, she just didn't have it in her to actually be annoyed. Most likely because said student was always polite, obedient and striving to improve herself wherever she could.

And that's how Marnie knew to search the library, and found her quarry. Sitting at one of the library's tables and staring at a book with undisguised frustration was Cassandra Cain. Marnie could hear the girl whispering as she attempted to sound out the words.

"Cassandra, I thought we talked about this," Marnie's tone was kind and gentle, but Cassandra still jumped as if struck.

"Ms. Herrs…" Cassandra looked at her counselor, and then at the clock on the wall. Her heart fell into her stomach when she realized just how late it was, how she hadn't even sensed anyone approaching and how effortlessly she was caught breaking the rules. At that moment, Cassandra felt so very small, "…I was…"

"Trying to study, I know," Marnie pulled out a chair and sat down next to Cassandra. She gently laid her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, and Cassandra could plainly see the compassion, sympathy and slight annoyance in her teacher's eyes, "but we talked about this. Without the proper help, you're not doing yourself any good. At best you're wasting your time and at worst you're setting yourself back."

Cassandra looked down, unable to look the older woman in the face.

"I really do appreciate that you're trying to learn," Marnie reached over and closed the book, a thick dictionary Cassandra had chosen at random. The sound of the thick book slamming closed echoed like a gunshot in Cassandra's ears. She'd barely read even three words… "But you need to let us help you with that. Otherwise you're not doing yourself any good."

"Sorry," Cassandra said weakly.

"There are worst offenses," Marnie smiled, "just don't let it happen again. Now, I need you to come with me. Remember what we talked about last week?"

Cassandra nodded half heartily. The school had a program of establishing adult mentors for students. While Cassandra could see how that might help other students, for her it just meant that there was someone else in her life that she had to lie to. While Cassandra knew the necessity of the deception, such lies just weren't in her nature.

All the same, Cassandra faked a happy smile and went with Marnie to her office. Marnie had repeated what she said a week before, about how an adult mentor could help her adjust and a million other things Cassandra just didn't care about. After all, no matter what they experienced, how could any adult mentor remotely relate to what she did every night as Batgirl? Cassandra doubted that they could even relate to her training, much less her life.

Ironically, when Marnie opened the door to her office and introduced her guest and Cassandra's mentor, it took all the young woman's training not to yelp in surprise.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Cassandra" Barbara Gordon Grayson extended her hand warmly, "I've heard a lot of good things about you."

"It's…good to meet you, too…Barbara," Cassandra never realized how alien Oracle's real name sounded coming from her lips.

"No one expects you to face your unique burdens alone," Ms. Herrs explained, because she knew that Cassandra had ignored her earlier, "that's why we like to pair up students with adult mentors who've been through similar, unusual traumatic events."

"I was crippled by The Joker," Barbara explained, while her body language read 'play along', "and my father was the police commissioner of Gotham for over a decade. I can promise that you'll find my experience helpful, Cassandra."

"I…guess so," Cassandra's mind reeled as she tried to process what was happening. What was Oracle doing here? Why this deception?

"Normally, I'd like to talk a few things over with the both of you, but it's getting late," Marnie glanced at Cassandra, "your guardian called me earlier to say that sh'd already spoken to Barbara about a ride home. I guess you lucked out, since that gives you time to know each other better."

Cassandra looked at Babs, then grumbled, "…perfect."

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"What are you doing…here?" Cassandra barely waited until the two were inside of Barbara's van before demanding answers.

"Why, don't want me here?" Barbara asked innocently as she started the van. Naturally, the van was designed to accommodate her disability, and Oracle started it as easily as she might a computer.

"…yeah," muttered Cassandra. She didn't know how better to express or explain herself, but saw that Oracle understood her perfectly.

"It's okay, I understand," Barbara pulled out of the parking lot, "I know how it is. School is the only place you can get away from home, build your own little slice of life as it were. Don't worry, I promise not to horn in on you here."

"Thank you," Cassandra wasn't entirely sure she understood what Oracle said, but it certainly felt right, "so…why are you…here?"

"I hacked the systems so that we could have some civilian contact," Barbara explained, "this way, no one will bat an eye when they see us associating together. Plus, by hanging around me and Dick, we create a plausible reason for you to start associating with Bruce, when he's in town."

"Oh." Cassandra tried to process the implication. She understood perfectly the idea of a secret identity, but emotionally she only had the smallest grasp. The idea that she could now socially be seen with Oracle without rising suspicion hadn't really occurred to her.

The ride became quiet, as Cassandra had no experience with small talk and less patience for it, something Oracle knew all too well. It was probably one of the few bad habits that she had in common with her mentor that she didn't actually learn from the man.

After a short, silent ride, they pulled up in front of Cassandra's townhouse. Barbara parked in an open space, and then turned to Cassandra.

"You know, I talked with your counselor earlier. She said you've been having some trouble with your reading," Oracle said, her voice soft and understanding, "I could help you with that after class, if you'd like."

Cassandra looked at the other woman, and knew that the offer was genuine and selfless. But there was a certain part of Oracle that seemed to insist that Cassandra take her help, that such a thing was a given fact.

And after all this time, Cassandra found that the presumption still cut her to the quick.

"You don't understand…what it's like…" Cassandra half muttered, half growled, "when something that should…work…doesn't."

"Cassandra," Oracle pointed to her legs and smiled good-naturedly, "I know exactly what it's like."

"That…that's different!" Cassandra snarled without realizing it. Oracle's constantly inability to understand burst a damn in Cass' heart and anger spilled forth unchecked, "legs are body! What…you are, can be fixed…", Cassandra flung the door open and then pointed at her head, "Brain is who…you are. And if that's broken…so are you. Can't be fixed!"

Cassandra slammed the door and stormed away before another word could be said, leaving a very apologetic Oracle behind.

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Later

Tatsu knocked softly on Cassandra's door.

"Are you there, tenshi?"

"It's just me," Cassandra answered through the door. And then, confused, asked, "who's tenshi?"

Tatsu opened the door and saw Cassandra laying on her bed, staring out her window.

"Barbara told me you two had an argument."

"We did," Cassandra confirmed dryly.

"Want to tell me about it?"

"No."

"Hmm," Tatsu shrugged, "well, get changed. We're going out to eat tonight. It was one of my favorite places to eat when I lived here before, and I think you'll like it."

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Inside a DEO safehouse just inside Gotham City limits

Special DEO Agent Stephen Files glared at the at the four convicts, all but one wearing handcuffs that neutralized their extra-normal abilities and would explode with just the push of a button.

"Welcome boys and things, to the Suicide Squad. I know some of you have been here before, but I'm going to explain anyways just so we're on the same page," Agent Files handed each convict a manila folder, "you have been brought on to ensure this young woman's capture."

"You kidding me?" asked the first convict, a professional hitman, "a team like this to take down one little girl? Mask or not, blondie can't wear more than a hundred pounds!"

"Are you complaining about your get out of jail free card?" Files asked, "because there are plenty more where you came from."

"No sir. I'm just sayin'…"

"Well, don't get your panties twisted. You're are just back-up. This target is a high priority. If it helps, just think of her as bait, that'll help us hook an even better catch," the agent explained, "you freaks are just insurance for when I bring down the hammer."

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In a seedy Gotham Hotel

Across town, Agent Files' prey was the center of discussion of another group of individuals, a group that found themselves in constant conflict with law enforcement.

"Are you sure she's even in Gotham?" asked the only male of the group, "I mean, with her abilities she could be anywhere!"

"Trust me," answered their leader. She voice bubbled slightly, "I know where she would go in an emergency. It's not as if she has a lot of friends she can rely on."

"Are we sure we even want her back?" asked the second woman, her voice angry and hot.

"Of course we do," purred the first woman with a mock smile, "she's family. Why wouldn't we help her?"

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In Gotham City, the homeless drew even less attention than usual. They were considered a non-entity, not as threatening as the criminals and sociopaths who preyed on the city and if one lived in Gotham long enough, less fortunate was just one step away from 'criminally insane'. The sympathy of the average Gothamite was reserved solely for themselves.

So as a result, no one noticed the college age girl slumped against an alley wall, watching the restaurant across the street with equal parts fear and excitement. Less than forty five minutes ago, she'd finally seen the woman she'd come to Gotham in search of.

But with the end so close, she wasn't so certain now that the light she saw at the end of the tunnel wasn't that of an oncoming train. Finding her had been her one goal and up until now, she hadn't really thought through what she would do, what she would…what she could say.

So like a deer in headlights, she just stood across the street.

Meanwhile, inside, a spirited educational debate was taking place.

"Why can't you teach me?" Cassandra demanded as she set aside her second plate of the evening.

"Because English is a very complicated language," Tatsu explained calmly, "and there are many nuances to it. I can read and speak it fairly well yes, but that hardly means I'm qualified to teach it."

"Why? It's just…talking!" Cassandra knew the words came out wrong the instant she said them, but for the life of her, couldn't think of another way to express her confusion.

"It's no more talking than throwing a punch is just fighting," Tatsu answered curtly, "anyone in this room can make a fist or hit a practice dummy. That does not mean they are as skilled as me, let alone yourself."

"That's different…"Cassandra mumbled.

"All languages are different and have their own rules," Tatsu stated, "for instance, in Japan, it's common to add a prefix onto someone's name, depending on their relation with you. When speaking to Bruce or my old teammates, I might use san. In Japanese, you prefix would be chan or hime, while say the president of the country, his would be sama."

"Why?"

Tatsu shrugged, "Many reasons, mostly related to culture and tradition. The English language has been influenced by generations of immigrants, so there are many, many rules one has to know. To fully understand it, your best option would be a native speaker. And honestly, there are few smarter than Barbara. And if you could stop being so stubborn for a moment, you'd see that."

"I'm not being stubborn," Cassandra muttered under her breath.

"Yes you are. You're letting your pride get in the way of your common sense. I know you want to be like Bruce, strong and self reliant, but he's not perfect, nor did he acquire his skills without the help of excellent teachers."

Cassandra moved uncomfortably in her seat.

"Oracle is a better hacker than Bruce, you are a better fighter, Nightwing is a better leader, Mr. Miracle is a better escape artist," Tatsu took a sip of water, "do I need to continue?"

"…no."

"I know you want to be like him, and that is an admirable goal. But everyone needs help," Tatsu reached across the table and placed her hands atop her adoptive ward, "you are already excellent in one regard. But there are equally important areas in which you need to improve, and for that you will need teachers. Your upbringing put you at a disadvantage and while I do believe you can overcome it, you need help. But you have to let us help you first."

Cassandra let the words sink in slowly. In truth, Tatsu hadn't said anything Cassandra didn't already realize, but it was still a little demoralizing to hear it said aloud. Swallowing her pride was a bitter pill for the young crime fighter, because she had so little to be proud of. And lessons with Oracle seemed like a sure fire way to remind her of that every day.

As she thought that, Cassandra scanned the room. Her instincts detected nothing amiss and the restaurant was in a better part of Gotham, but Cassandra's instincts ran like finely tuned watch, precision work done almost mechanically.

Cassandra saw the waiter inpatient for the customers to order, the husband and wife eating dinner together for what would likely prove to be the last time though neither knew it at the moment. Cassandra observed the two men in the corner, both deeply in love but unsure how to tell the other, she saw the retired police detective sitting at a table, waiting for a business associate.

And she saw a young, blond haired woman standing across the street, staring at her.

Cassandra almost did a double take. She stared hard, trying to confirm what she'd just seen.

It wasn't easy. Though they were facing the window, the window that opened to the street had the name painted on, and Gotham foot traffic was always hectic, but Cassandra could confirm that she was being watched by a young, blond haired woman.

Memories of a dead friend flooded Cassandra's mind, and her body literally shook as she fought against her first instinct to dash out the door. The distance was too great to make out the blonde's face, but the age, height, body type…they were too familiar. Painfully familiar.

"Cassandra, what is it?" Tatsu saw her ward's rigid body language and knew from experience something was amiss.

"We're being watched," Cassandra answered quickly, "stay here."

Cassandra stood up and walked towards the bathroom. As she passed an unoccupied table she swiped a knife without anyone noticing. Most bathrooms in Gotham had security systems to prevent people from climbing out the windows, and she hadn't brought the right tools with her.

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Tatsu waited several tense minutes as the waiter brought the check. Tatsu left the money on the table along with a generous tip and anxiously made her way towards the car.

She opened the back seat, and glanced at the secret compartment in the floor that held Cassandra's gear. It was nearly impossible tell it was there even when you knew what to look for and impossible to determine if Cassandra had actually taken her gear. Tatsu began to open the door, to see if Cassandra had indeed found it necessary to dawn her uniform, with a gust of wind shot out of nowhere and slammed the door shut.

Hurricane force winds slammed into the older heroine, plastering her against the car. Tatsu looked up, and to her horror saw that she recognized her assailant.

"Katana, you're going to help me…!" Wendy Jones, or Windfall, a young member of Outsiders that Tatsu hadn't seen in months, nearly a year. The young woman looked terrible, bags underneath her eyes, worry lines all across her face while her hair was greasy and frayed, "or…or else you'll regret it!"

Next issue: Windfall's in Gotham, and hell is hot on her heels! Batgirl faces her greatest challenge yet to protect someone who may not be innocent of the crime she's accused of!