CHAPTER 61:
"Grayson's Difficult Admission"
When Nightwing and Arkells emerged from the back sections of the cave, once again cloaked in their respected RCT's, so no-one could see them, they entered the main area.
They had spoken for a little while longer, and decided some more recon was needed in how best plan out a strategy against Riddler and Handles, and how to rescue Tim and Steph without having them under-fire while doing so. Jake had his side-arms and Riddler had his Q-Staff, which only until recently, had been converted into a gauntlet gun of sorts that could take out an elephant.
Any stupid move could put both Tim and Steph, and even Alfred, the cat, in unnecessary grave jeopardy, was discarded.
But the moment that got within sight of their enemies, the pair stopped short, as a small boy, the same height as Damian, stood out of immediate sight, partially blocked by Nygma, as he and Handles talked. Jake had apparently moved off the Batcomputer for this new introduction into their villainy fold. From the look of things, the boy was not a hostage but an ally.
They couldn't see his face at first, but when it came into view, both were shocked when the boy was a spitting image of Jason Todd at thirteen years old and the same seen on Treasure Island. Jason had not received the white tuff of hair until he returned from the dead, but this boy had a white streak in the middle of his hair like a skunk and a slight mohawk accentuating it. In addition, he had a shoulder length ponytail that fell over his right shoulder. It was similar to how Dick wore his hair at one point in his heroic career.
Dick admitted that it was a fashion faux pas for him in later years, but every once in a while Jason would bring out a picture he had taken of Nightwing, just to be mean, and showed it to the others whenever he wanted to get back to Dick for something.
The boy whisked the ponytail back across his shoulder with a hand and it fell back behind his back. While the kid had a somewhat nostalgic feeling to Dick, if Jason ever found out, he knew Jay would be absolutely furious, and maybe try to kill the boy.
Arkells put a hand to his mouth and said very quietly: "Who is that? He wasn't here when I was down here alone."
Dick shook his head. "No idea; both of us must've just missed him, he being elsewhere. But how is that possible? Jason reverted back to his adult form in the Batplane. We both were witness to it."
"Then that's the surprise," Arkells replied. "When Handles was in the Den, just before he started his beatdown on me thinking I was you, he said he brought back a special surprise from Treasure Island; this boy must be it. The one-man sub Jake Handles said he had escaped in from the island must've had room for the boy, as well. Well, now we know what his surprise is. More trouble?"
They both immediately thought of the boy as a clone and possibly a bio-genetically engineered hybrid from Jason's genes. Arkells theorized that when Jason was shrunk by the miniaturization ray, Handles must have also swiped a sample of his DNA. The boy also wore similar armour to Jason's minus the Bat Symbol, even a brown jacket.
Jason Junior extended a hand and shook Riddler's when given. "Handles, your son is courteous and adept; nice to meet you, young man," Nygma said. The sentiments were returned. Their voices somewhat carried for Nightwing and Arkells to hear. They did not wish to get too close, but enough of a distance to listen.
Handles put a hand on Jason Junior's shoulder. "I'm very proud of him," he said. "He was waiting for me in my mini-sub that took me to safety when Treasure Island was destroying itself. Like all children, he is a construct of my own design and birthing, using the genetic aptitudes of Kittiwake birds to fortify his genetic structure when accelerating the process. He is proficient in advanced weaponry and training and vastly intelligent. He knows he a genetic clone, but he has a personality all his own, hence the hair. He enjoys the outlandishness of the look. He even chose a suitable name for himself."
"I chose the name Defoe, because I believe it suits my personality," the boy spoke. "I originally thought of calling myself William Kidd, in an off-tribute to the American Western Gunslinger. But as my genes have now settled to a normal rate of growth, the name would eventually outlive its usefulness. So, in researching names, I came across Dafoe."
Riddler nodded. "Yes, I would concur," he said. "I know the true reference behind its meaning, not just the actor."
"Quite shocking," Arkells quietly mentioned. And Nightwing agreed.
Just then, Dafoe appeared to look away from Riddler and Handles in their direction. And there was something about his eyes that gave Arkells moment of concern. They appeared to focus directly on them, as if optically advanced.
"Excuse me for a moment…" Dafoe said.
He sidestepped from Handles and Riddler and then pulled out a silver pistol from a holster on his left hip, that had been blocked from view. He suddenly fired, and at Nightwing and Arkells's position, as if he could see them. But when the shot rang out, it was no normal weapon, but a particle-charged gun.
Both Nightwing and Arkells jumped out its path, but the charge caught Arkells on the left ankle, and his appearance was exposed, the charge nullifying his RCT, creating an electric field that paralyzed Arkells for the immediate moment, unable to move.
After Dick saw that, he wondered if Arkells felt the same in what happened to Tim with the Neuro-Diffuser. Completely paralyzed?
Arkells face cringed with a pain that Nightwing knew all too well whenever he had been hit with a highly powerful weapon of such. Unable to do anything, he ran and ducked behind the Batmobile. It was the safest place. With such a powerful weapon, Dafoe wouldn't care fire it at him here, or risk causing a major explosion in hitting the Batmobile's power source.
Dafoe kept a focus aim on Nightwing. It was like he could see through his RCT, as if he had advanced optical sensory abilities. If Jake made him, then no doubt the kid did.
Nygma went over and grabbed Arkells by his upper attire, lifting him to his knees. He gripped a tight fist. "Well, if it isn't the trickster come home to roost. Your charade was very clever. I applaud your efforts. Nevertheless, in the end, it was all for naught."
Jake unholstered one of his guns and pointed it at Arkells, then he glanced to where Dafoe was looking. "Come on out, Nightwing. It's obvious Dafoe can see you. His eyes are quite advanced and attune to refractive cloaking technology, like that from Spyral."
Nightwing remained where he was for the moment, but then he relented in his hiding space, and came out into the open, switching off his RCT, raising his hands. "Quite the playmate you have here, Jake. Making friends now?"
Dafoe eyed him with distain. "I'll fry you to a crisp, hero. So, shut it!"
"Cute kid, a real desperado."
Dafoe smirked, then twirled the gun he held in hand like a gunslinger. It reminded Dick of Jason, how he sometimes did the same thing. Jason was prolific with weapons, he could tell the difference between one calibre from the next just by the sound of its shot, but he could also be a showman, which Dick thought was partially his fault. When Jason was young, he would often copy things, mimic twirls of weapons, like Nightwing did with his escrima sticks. And he was pretty good at it. Apparently, so was Dafoe.
The kid eyed Nightwing, then he did something unexpected.
He bolted, and barrelled into Nightwing's mid-section, using every ounce of his strength, knocking Nightwing down.
Nightwing cradled his gut, the kid got in a strategic strike it, and in a highly sensitive spot. Down on one knee, Nightwing looked at Dafoe, eye-to-eye, as the kid smirked sinisterly. The particle weapon pocketed, his hands on his hips.
The kid didn't relent. He attacked again, and this time, performed a backflip and kicked out, which clocked Nightwing in the chin. A perfect flip like an acrobatic artist, which the real Jason was. Then he followed up with a roundhouse kick. And at his height, the hit was dead-on to Nightwing's face.
Nightwing spit out blood, then held his mouth.
"Enough, Dafoe," Handles said. He came over. Riddler had relieved him in holding Arkells to bare with a pistol of his own. However, Arkells wasn't much of a threat at the moment, incapacitated, and unable to fight back, by Dafoe's shot. Dafoe stepped back to give Jake Handles space, Handles' gun now poised at Nightwing's head. "Finally, you've been brought to your knees."
Nightwing could taste the iron of his blood in mouth, his teeth red. But he smiled in spite of it. He looked up the barrel of Jake's gun.
"And all it took was that of a child to do you dirty work, Jake," Nightwing said with a bloody smirk. "You never could handle things yourself. You've always surrounded yourself with lackey's, or in this case, a real knob."
"What did he call me?" Dafoe protested.
"It's a play on words. He's trying to be funny. My name is Handles, so you're a door knob, because you're smaller."
"Well, if you have to explain it so dryly like that, then all the humour fails short," Nightwing said.
"Your puns were never funny, Dick."
"Some people liked them…" He cleared his throat. "Tell me, Jake, if that bomb never went off in your face, do you really think you could've taken me down? Ego aside, I'm the Caped Crusader's greatest protege! I live for danger. And frankly, you're nothing compared to the likes of The Joker, or even your partner of there. You're pathetic!"
Handles pistol whipped Nightwing across the face, knocking him over. Nightwing to his hands and knees, then felt his head. After his surgery, the doctor said to be careful not to allow anything to hit him hard while in recovery or he could suffer a brain injury.
Sorry, doc…looks like I disobeyed your orders…
He looked up at Jake Handles, as he felt the side of his head, an awful ache starting,. The right eye slot of his mask begin to bleed red over it from a wound from the hit. Jake again pointed his gun directly at Nightwing's head.
"My original plan was to put you out to pasture, Dick, before I choose to enact my full scheme. If you knew I had survived, then I knew you'd drop everything to find me. As Agent 37, you were relentless in your missions, and you never let failure deter you. You learned from your mistakes and adapted, eventually coming out on top. Your had one of the highest success rates in all of Spyral.
"And this is why I hired two of the greatest snipers in the business to take you out. With you out of the way and Batman distracted, I would have reign to hold the world hostage with my sonic device. I would then collect what was mine, namely Julie, for which Spyral took away from me. We were in love, we were married, but then it all ended with an antiquated rule: No personnel shall engage in a relationship with another, or face disciplinary action or termination. Idiotic!"
"Rules are rules, Jake," Dick said. "You never knew how to follow them. And when you began murdering innocent people, you had to be stopped. They sent me after you, knowing I was the best man for the job. And that I knew all your weaknesses."
"We both know no one ever leaves Spyral unless it's in a box, Dick. I even tendered my resignation, but they threatened me. Warned me against it. So, I did what was necessary. All I wanted was Julie, and they hid her form me! Now she's in some witness protection program of the highest secrecy. I can't find her. If you know where she is, then you will tell me. Or else!"
"Even if I did, I wouldn't. You're a sick man, Jake."
Jake grit his teeth in angry. Nightwing saw him struggle to pull the trigger. But something was stopping him. Perhaps he thought Julie's location could be sought.
Nightwing took a moment's glance at the Batcomputer. Along with his pet project, Jake was using it to search law enforcement bureau servers, and other directives, hacking into their data bases, for people in the WPP, on a separate screen.
Perhaps he does think I know where Julie is? Problem is, I don't. I do remember she changed her name, but I don't know to what.
Handles fired a shot into the air, startling Dick, then took aim back to him. "I'll kill you, Dick! One shot at this range, will do it! I can't miss. This time, I'll pull the trigger myself. No fake-outs and no second chances. Tell me where Julie is! Now!"
"A woman?" Nygma said. "Are you telling me the bulk of this conflict between you two is based on the premise of testosterone?"
Nightwing shook his head. "No, but Jake, here's the truth," he began. "Julie confided to me one night during a phone call, and she told me she was worried about you. She noticed your passion for her was gradually fading, even if you'd claim no. With every mission you two were on, you kept collecting souvenirs—'golden idols', she said. Whenever she wanted to bring up the subject, you pushed it away. She was thinking of a trial separation, but she told me to keep it quiet. Spyral didn't even know about you two yet, and you had been secretly married for an entire year. But even before then, she began to become concerned for her own safety."
Jake Handles eyes grew wide with shock. "You're lying! She would never do that. She loved me, and I loved her." He then seemed to pause, his eyes darting back and forth. "Why didn't I see it before? I can't believe I was so blind. It's all starting to make sense now. You were always sweet on her, Grayson—boyish good looks, charming smile. You were brainwashing her against me."
"Whoa, whoa!" Nightwing said. "That is crazy, Jake! I would never try to waltz in on Julie. I saw how you two were, like lovebirds. I even covered for you two when people got suspicious. She was just concerned about you. You started acting strange long before Spyral knew about your relationship, that's all I'm saying. Like Romeo and Juliet, you two were great together."
"And much like the Capulets and the Montague's, you wanted us separated. I can't believe I was so stupid not to see it. You've always been a womanizer. Did you sleep with her? Did you? Tell me the truth right here. Or I swear, I'll shoot you dead!"
But Nightwing was speechless. The sheer shock of the statement took his breath away and it felt like his heart had stopped.
Then, when he finally got courage to speak, he clenched his fists angrily, and stood.
He said, "No, Jake. I didn't sleep with her. I have…had too much respect for you. And you insult me by the insinuation. Yes, I have been told I am a womanizer. But to think I would do that to you is beyond offensive. I don't know where Julie is, but it's obvious that you still love her. But it was you who drove her away, and it was me that told Spyral about the two of you. Not because it was against the rules, but because I didn't want to see Julie hurt anymore. I saw the bruises. You don't get those just by falling."
Jake Handles clenched his gun. "You bastard! This has been all your fault from the beginning?"
Nightwing looked at him with a seriousness he rarely gave to anyone. "I am a protector of the innocent. I do what I do not because I have the abilities, but because I can. I protect those who need extra help. My parents were murdered by criminals, and I was raised by a man who desired a certain skill set, but he also allowed me to develop into the person I am today. Even though we have our differs of opinion, I own everything to him. And I will forever be a protector to those that need my help."
He found a hidden strength and faced Jake's gun without fear or regret.
"I will not apologize for what I did to protect Julie, or how it ended for you. But it's about time I show you just what I am capable of. I own you for shooting me in the head and turning me into an amnesiac for a time, you nearly took everything away from me. You almost succeeded, but failed only by your own ego. My family and friends brought me back. So did the love of a good woman."
NIghtwing paused for a moment, then said: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools, the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more…"
"It is a tale, told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," Riddler finished. "MacBeth," he said, nodding approvingly. "I may have misjudged you, Nightwing. You are not the dumb, pretty-boy hero I pegged you out to be. You actually have a brain, like Batman. Whoever can quote Shakespeare in such a valiant matter is a wise and educated man. And for that, I am glad Handles failed in his attempt to destroy you. He's saying this is your last hooray, Handles. And by the look on his face, he means it."
"I know what he meant! Shut up!" Jake growled.
"And one more thing, Jake," Nightwing's teeth grit with a seething anger. "You lay one hand on Barbara, your body won't be the only thing that's burned, Hell's fury will be nothing compared to what I'd do to you!"
To be continued...
