DC Infinity Presents

Batgirl # 18

Streets of Fear Unseen

Part 2

Gotham

"Thought you'd play hero, huh tough guy?"

Josh Brown felt a cold sweat trickle down his face, but he refused to budge. Behind him was a young woman, maybe fifteen years old and in front of him were seven gang bangers who were trying to rip the girl's clothes off before Josh got involved. Common sense told him not to get involved, but his conscience demanded that he put himself between them and the girl, no matter the cost.

Unfortunately, Josh was quickly coming to the conclusion that all he would end up doing was providing the gang with a little workout before they returned to their original victim.

"Well, this is Gotham, and we got no place for heroes here," smiled Gary Edwards, twenty three years old with a rap sheet as long as his arm. He held a butterfly knife that he'd acquired in his last fight in one hand and casually waved it back and forth, drinking in the power he thought it gave him, "but we have plenty of room for victims, don't you worry."

"Why would they?" asked a new voice, "after all…they won't be tonight's…victims."

Everyone looked up, and gasped as Nightwing and Batgirl dropped down from the Fire Escape and landed in the middle of the gang of eight.

They were outnumbered four to one, but Josh couldn't mix the looks of horror on each and every gang member's face.

The action was little more than a blur to Josh, though he'd always be impressed by what little he remembered. Nightwing taking down two thugs with a scissor kick, Batgirl dispatching the leader with a casual backhand and, in the end, how it was all over inside of a minute.

But what Josh remembered most was, when all the thugs were unconscious, was how Nightwing turned to him, and said three words Josh never expected a real hero to say at him.

"Thanks for your help, sir."

Josh did a double take, "Excuse me?"

"You stepping in front of that gang gave us enough time to get involved before anyone was hurt," Nightwing explained, "not a lot of people would do that."

"I…just had to," Josh shrugged. He quickly realized he didn't even know the name of the woman behind him.

"Not a lot of people see it that way. The police will be here in a minute or two, so if you could just hang around a little while longer, they'll get a statement from you" Nightwing smiled as he fired his grappling hook into the air. With a heart-felt and polite wave good-bye, Nightwing disappeared upwards.

Batgirl stood at the edge of the building, arms crossed as she waited for the police. She could hear the sirens, and see the lights, but didn't feel safe simply leaving until the police were in sight of the innocent people below. She felt an odd stir of emotions, and didn't want to risk being sloppy.

"Cass, something wrong?"

Batgirl stiffened, not used to hearing her civilian name while in costume. Part of her wanted to scold Nightwing for being so careless, but she knew better. Nightwing was a constant contradiction, casual but serious, personally concerned but professionally detached. He would only use her 'real' name if he was certain that no one would overhear.

"Stopping that attack…felt odd. Right to do, but, frustrating."

"Trust me, I understand," Nightwing replied with a nod, "no one likes being distracted from an investigation, no matter how necessary."

For the past three days, the two of them had been combing Gotham, investigating the possible abduction and deaths of several homeless men. But just yesterday, the original estimate of questionable deaths, that started at four, jumped up to over a dozen after Detective Akins did some digging.

Both Nightwing and Batgirl felt a sharp sense of urgency upon learning the new number, but still hadn't made any progress. In Gotham, people made a habit of keeping to themselves, of not seeing anything. And when it came to the homeless, who many wished were actually invisible, they saw even less.

Nightwing wouldn't say it, but Batgirl knew that this investigation would depend more on luck than anything else. They had no idea where the victims had been abducted, and blood samples from the victims were defying analysis. While that enabled them to glean some information, that the killer or killers were skilled chemists, but that hardly narrowed down the suspects.

Not in Gotham.

So duo swung over the city in silence, eyes searching every street corner and alley. Unlike the past several nights, tonight they were looking for someone in particular, but were having little in the way of luck.

The two traveled some twelve random blocks before Nightwing finally signaled for them to stop.

"What's wrong?" Batgirl asked.

"This isn't working," Nightwing scowled as he rubbed the back of his neck, "we're never going to find her at this rate, and every second we spend looking for her is one more those killers are allowed to roam free."

"I thought you knew her…location," Batgirl stated.

"I know her general preferred area," Nightwing explained, "but she's homeless, Cass. If she wants to pull up stakes or heck, just finds a better spot, she'll move."

"Where are the local…," Batgirl tried to remember the term, "fast food…re…staurants? Near her area?"

Nightwing rubbed his chin, "Two McDonalds, three Belly Busters just off the top of my head."

"Then we focus our search around them," Batgirl said firmly, "I remember…that they're the best place to find food. People don't think much of…"

Batgirl's voice trailed off when she noticed Nightwing giving her an odd look. It was a combination of curiosity and concern. It was an expression she saw on him often when talking to Robin or Batman about personal matters.

"…what?"

"That's just the first time I've heard you even mention anything about your life before No Man's Land and after you left Cain, is all," Nightwing explained evenly, "you never talk about it."

"No, I don't."

Batgirl fired her grappling gun again, and Nightwing, after a moment, followed.

They spent the next forty minutes looking for their quarry, but luck was on their side. Batgirl eyed their target, and silently signaled Nightwing.

Marcie Long rummaged through the dumpster, looking for any salvageable leftovers. She was never by the stench of rotting meat and sugar and earlier in the day she'd seen a family of eight eating at the Belly Buster. Experience had taught her a family that size always ordered too much food, usually leaving a few good bits.

"Marcie, could we talk?"

Marcie snapped her head to the side, and saw Nightwing standing at the entrance to the alley. Marcie pushed herself out of the dumpster, and ran in the opposite direction as fast as her fifty year old legs would carry her. But she didn't make it far before Batgirl landed in front of her.

While the Daughter of Destruction did her best to look firm but non-threatening, she still wore the symbol of The Bat. Marcie, terrified, pressed herself against the alley wall and tried to tuck herself into a ball.

"You don't have to be scared, Marcie," Nightwing explained, one hand pulling the cart Marcie abandoned in her mad dash for freedom, "we're not going to hurt you."

Batgirl could see how the words did little to reassure the woman. On the street, the homeless were treated as part of the bottom rung, prey for anyone with half an excuse. It was only natural to Batgirl, that they'd fear the top predators of the concrete jungle.

"We just want to talk. We need your help, Marcie," Nightwing stated, "we have reason to believe someone is preying on your community."

"I ain't heard nothin'," Marcie spat as she looked straight down.

Nightwing glanced towards Batgirl, who shook her head in the negative.

"I think you have," replied Nightwing, "we're only trying to help you, Marcie. But I need you to be honest with me."

"You don't care about us, no one does," Marcie muttered.

"Have I or Batman ever hurt or lied to you before?"

"…no."

"We're not about to start now," Nightwing reassured her, "there are over half a dozen bodies in the morgue. But our investigation won't go anywhere if we don't know where they were staying, where to look for evidence. That's why we need you, Marcie."

"Alright," Marcie finally stopped staring at the ground, and turned to Nightwing, "let me see the pictures."

Batgirl watched as Marcie Long looked at each photo, and then gave a time, date and street address of the last place she'd seen the victim. Nightwing had explained earlier that Marcie had a photographic memory, and thus was an excellent source of information when one needed information regarding the homeless community.

"…and Ol' Man Coleman says he saw a green monster over by the abandoned train station on fifth."

Nightwing and Batgirl exchanged a glance.

"Alright Marcie, that should be enough," Nightwing stated, "thanks for your help, and take care."

Batgirl clenched her fists as they left. She had a fair idea who the 'Green Monster' was that Marcie reported, and she was almost equally certain that it was just another distraction, another waste of time.

Halfway into a deep brood, Nightwing turned to her with a smile on his face, "I know you're annoyed, Cass. But on the bright side, the rogue we're about to bring in can handle us venting our frustration."

Batgirl reflected on that, and instantly ceased brooding.

As they expected, the two crime-fighters found Waylon Jones, AKA Killer Croc in the train station. He was soundly asleep atop a small pile of trash bags, arms and legs splayed out, snoring like a Frat Boy after a night of binge drinking.

Hang back, Nightwing silently signaled to Batgirl. She nodded, and remained in the shadows while Nightwing stepped into the little light provided by both the moon and the street lamps outside.

"Croc," Nightwing growled, "get up, now."

Killer Croc awoke with a snort, and instantly saw Nightwing not a dozen feet away. Batgirl watched as fear and tension, tinged with confusion, played across his body. Killer Croc was on his feet within seconds, but for the moment resisted lunging for Nightwing's throat.

"Ah, Junior Bat," Killer Croc slumped a little bit, but his giant form still managed to loom. But for all his animalistic appearance, Batgirl saw how his mind remained largely human. With muscles that far outstripped his brain, his body was like a neon sign for her.

"Thinking you can take me in all by yourself?" Croc grinned, revealing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth, "I'll eat you alive, kid."

Nightwing's reaction to Croc's threat was so minimal it could almost have been said not to happen at all. There was no fear, no doubt. Gone was the polite Nightwing who smiled freely, replaced by a knowing confidence and a smirk of steel.

"I don't like violence, Croc," True, Batgirl observed, but Nightwing certainly enjoyed the physical activity and victories that followed, "but if you don't surrender Croc, I promise you that you'll go back to Arkham with far more bruises than if you'd just given up."

"I'll remember that when I'm picking pieces of you outta my teeth!"

Killer Croc surged forward, but the attack was no surprise to Nightwing. When Killer Croc came within arm's length, Nightwing spun on his heels, grabbed Croc's right arm and threw the rogue over his shoulder in a classic judo throw.

Killer Croc almost wanted to laugh. Never, in all his years of fighting Gotham's Defenders had anyone ever used such an amateur move against him. Just Croc thought that this fight would be a cakewalk, and just as he was starting his descent, steel-toed boots slammed into his chest, pitching him backwards where Croc slammed into a stone pillar.

Killer Croc clutched his back, gritting his sharp teeth as he forced himself up. Batgirl and Nightwing casually strolled in front of him, hands at their sides.

"Easy or hard…it ends the same way," Batgirl warned.

Killer Croc, never a champion of logical actions, charged again. Nightwing dodged to the side, while Batgirl leapt over the reptile villain and landed behind him.

Killer Croc spun around, and swept his claw like nails at Batgirl's throat. Croc missed, but not by much. He kept swinging wildly, forcing Batgirl backwards. Croc grinned, as a clever (by his definition) plan formed. Within seconds, Batgirl bumped into the same stone pillar she'd kicked him into moments ago.

Killer Croc raised his fists over his head, ready to crush Batgirl, when he saw the oddest thing.

She was smiling.

Batgirl unleashed two snap kicks, each one striking Croc's knees perfectly, and that single second Killer Croc took to wince, Batgirl sidestepped him and two feet collided with the back of his skull and drove him face first into the stone pillar.

Killer Croc pulled his face out, and spun around. He saw Nightwing only a few feet away, a cocky grin on his face.

At his core, Killer Croc was a street fighter, and his brain had room for only primary target at a time. He ran for Nightwing, and was stunned when Batgirl struck him in the back of the knees, causing him to tumble just right as Nightwing swung his elbow, slamming it into Killer Croc's face.

Killer Croc tried to ignore the shot, focus on Nightwing, but that simply wasn't possible when Batgirl came from behind and boxed his ears.

His head ringing, Killer Croc was helpless to prevent Nightwing from unleashing several rabbit punches that rattled his teeth, or stop Batgirl from connecting with a kick to his liver that felt as bad as a stab in the side.

Killer Croc would never say it aloud, but he knew this fight wouldn't last much longer. When he went after one crime-fighter, the second attacked with laser like precision.

Despite herself, Batgirl was enjoying this fight more than she knew she should. Nightwing moved with expert skill, his attacks created the perfect opening, and he picked up on her moves effortlessly.

Nightwing connected with a powerful right hook that sent Croc stumbling, and his vision barely cleared when Nightwing ducked down and Batgirl, using his back as a springboard, flipped head over heel and brought her steel toed boots slamming down on Croc's shoulder.

Croc gave out an animalistic cry as he felt the bone snap, but Nightwing hit him with a roundhouse kick, and the young hero kept spinning. Croc, his vision blurred by pain, didn't see Nightwing grab Batgirl's wrist and swing her around, but he certainly felt it when both her feet smashed into his ribs, creating more than a dozen hairline fractures.

Killer Croc stumbled backwards, trying to catch his breath, trying to think of a way out. Batgirl and Nightwing separated, and came at him from both sides. Though he knew that this was it, Killer Croc couldn't surrender without a fight, his animal nature wouldn't allow it.

Unfortunately for Croc, his animal nature had little say in the matter. Nightwing and Batgirl dodged his wild swings, and punched an important nerve cluster on both arms, and as a result the limbs dropped to Croc's side like wet noodles.

"We gave you fair warning," Nightwing smiled.

The fists of Batgirl and Nightwing met Killer Croc's face at the same moment, and the Reptilian villain flew backwards into the stone column one last time, and passed out.

"I enjoyed that…too much," Batgirl stated as she flexed her sore hands. Punching Killer Croc was one step below hitting a brick wall, and it was a challenge even with her training.

"There are worse guilty pleasures," Nightwing replied.

"Now what?" Batgirl asked, "he's not…responsible for the murders. Not his…style."

"Probably not, but he needs to be locked up all the same," Nightwing replied, "plus, it's getting late. So here's what we're going to do. We're going to wait for the Swat team to come take Croc. Then I'm going to check out the locations Marcie gave us, see if anyone noticed anything odd. We might get lucky and someone saw the abduction, but I wouldn't hold your breath."

"And me?" Batgirl looked at Nightwing with a raised eye-brow. She could tell he wasn't looking forward to what he was going to say next.

Nightwing gave a slight nod to Killer Croc, and Batgirl confirmed that he was completely unconscious.

"You're going home, getting some sleep and then going to school," Nightwing said in a low tone that Killer Croc would have to strain to hear even if he was conscious. The first partner of Batman wasn't as paranoid as the Dark Knight, but that wasn't to say he wasn't cautious.

To Batgirl, the statement was like a slap to the face, "I can still help! We're…not even close!"

"What needs to be done next is easily a one person job," Nightwing replied, his tone and body language completely unyielding. While he was hardly unsympathetic to her desire to help, Batgirl recognized his stance as strikingly similar to that of their mentor, as he made it clear he was to be obeyed, "it's way too early to be cutting out on your education, especially for something so basic. And don't think I won't make sure you're actually at school."

Batgirl glared at Nightwing, but knew it was a futile gesture. She could plainly see how he meant every word, and after working alongside him for years, there were only two people she trusted more on every level, and one of those was herself.

And so, with what a more courageous soul might identify as a pout, Batgirl disappeared into the shadows, leaving Nightwing to finish the night's mission.

Cassandra woke up the next morning in a dark and sour mood. She barely remembered showering, eating breakfast or the ride to school.

Classes weren't much better for the young crimefighter. It wasn't just that Cassandra could barely put last night's case out of her mind, though that was a large part of it.

"That's just the first time I've heard you even mention anything about your life before No Man's Land and after you left Cain, is all. You never talk about it."

Nightwing was right, of course. As a general rule, Cassandra didn't like thinking about that time in-between leaving her father and coming to Gotham to exploit No Man's Land. That time of her life, drifting from shelter to shelter, felt like an open sore. The constant moving, the hunger that always seemed to gnaw at her insides, the fear that this was all she could hope for out of life…

Living on the streets was bearable then because it was all she knew. Looking back now, with all she had now, Cassandra felt sick to her stomach. Just the thought of somehow slipping back into that life was vaguely unsettling, like a nightmare half remembered though she knew Nightwing never intended for her to feel that way.

All the same, Cassandra went through the day with an entirely different perspective. Aaron, with his obsessive order and shamed that he brought, reminded her of someone long past, and her school never seemed larger.

Later

Nightwing was sitting in Batgirl's personal cave, working on their joint case when out of nowhere, he felt someone swat him upside the head.

"Hope I deserved that, Cass," Nightwing remarked as he rubbed his head.

"You did," Batgirl replied without explanation, "learn anything…new?"

Batgirl knew the answer before Nightwing replied, so he didn't bother to reply.

"We need a new tactic," Nightwing sighed, "I thought about going undercover…"

"Hair's too nice, nails are too good…smell too clean even after workout…" Batgirl stopped when she realized Nightwing had already reached the same conclusion, "sorry.

"Don't worry about it," Nightwing replied, the critique rolled off his shoulder like water off a duck, "but at the moment, our alternatives aren't looking good. I could assemble a task-force to help out, but if they were spotted…"

"Killers would go to ground," Batgirl finished. She rubbed her chin, trying to think of a way to lure the killers out. Normally, the best tactic would be to offer them a prize they couldn't resist, or to stalk their prey. But neither was a viable choice here, as there were simply too many of their preferred victims out there.

"What if we tried…herding them?" Batgirl asked, "send someone undercover…then focus elsewhere?"

Nightwing drummed his fingers on the computer, mulling it over.

"That'd be pretty dangerous, with no guarantee it'd be safe," Nightwing said neutrally, "or that they'd even take the bait."

"They've taken fighters," Batgirl said, "all the dead men, their bruises…deaths…were like those of a fight."

"I noticed that too," Nightwing replied, "I see what you're getting at. Decent fighters among the homeless are probably hard to come by. But that doesn't help if we don't have someone who can pass as homeless."

"Actually…"

Bill Silver's Gym

Nightwing casually observed the gym owner, Bill Silver, sprawled out on the couch in his office. His snore seemed loud enough to rattle the windows, his hand was clenched around a bottle of bourbon, his hair looked more like a tangle of white reeds than hair, and his clothes were damp with sweat.

"Well…," Nightwing looked at Bill, then at Batgirl, "he certainly strikes the right image…"

"He'll help," Batgirl said, "he loves Gotham. Hates…thugs but doesn't know what to do."

"I hope you're right," Nightwing replied, "because we don't have much in the way of options."

Location Secret

Jacob Palmer was on his hands and knees, what little food he'd been given was splashed out on the ground beneath him. Less than six feet was his latest victim, a woman of forty years he'd never seen before today, when he tore out her windpipe with his bare hands. He could feel the wet stickiness of her blood on his hands and dirt like feeling of flesh under his nails.

Jacob wasn't even aware of the presence of his tormenters, the architects of the soul searing pain that gripped his soul, looking down from the edge of the arena where he'd just ended the life of another innocent soul.

"He seems to be improving," observed the Fallen Son, "but he can't seem to realize the truth yet, that what he's done doesn't matter."

"I don't care what opinion the subject comes to," remarked the Professor, "so long as it responds correctly to treatment."

"We're going to need sterner stock," replied the Fallen Son, "our current dog is beginning to bore me."

"I understand. And I think I need to test my latest formula on healthier subjects," The Professor looked down at the broken body in the arena, "after all, there's no reason why science has to be boring."

Next Issue: Bill Silver goes undercover, our villains revealed and Cassandra pulls a prank!