The Boys in Blue

Story 7: Code Words Part 2

Jason couldn't believe it. Not only had they wasted their time going to meet up with an informant as police officers—Nightwing and Red Hood could have just gone in at night and solved the whole thing in a matter of minutes—but they had somehow managed to get bamboozled by five second-rate thugs. And yes, he meant bamboozled.

He followed Dick's lead and put his hands in the air. This is humiliating. It was Jason. Was more aggravated with himself than actually concerned for his life. Even as one of the men pointedly raised his AR-15 to his chest, Jason was only thinking about how long this nuisance would last and whether or not they'd be able to make it to Burger King before closing.

"What do you think you're doing down here?" asked the leader pleasantly. Jason guessed this was the Shawn character Pusey-cat had been so worried about.

Dick gave them his best winning smile. "Would you believe we just wanted a quiet place to make out?"

Jason was mildly scandalized.

"Oh, a wise guy," said Shawn. Covered by his cohorts, he took a few slow steps towards Dick. Stopping in front of his brother, Shawn smiled a very unsettling smile. "Do you know how I deal with wise guys?" He punched Dick in the stomach.

Ouch. It was times like this that Jason remembered that Dick Grayson was in fact tougher than he looked. Dick barely bucked inwards under the blow. Jason was slightly impressed. Still, it shouldn't have happened. "Dick," he rolled his eyes, "you're not helping things."

"Do you guys always make jokes when people are pointing guns in your faces?" Thaddeus asked. It's a wonder he was able to be heard at all over the sound of his knees knocking together.

"Pretty much," answered Dick.

"It's kinda his thing," Jason supplied.

"How can you sound so casual! They're going to kill us!" said Thaddeus.

Jason shook his head. "They can't yet. Even the club music upstairs won't cover the sound of an AR-15 going off. They'll have to wait till everyone's gone. Well, either that or bundle us all into a car and drive us someplace remote."

"Or we can tie you to those chairs and give you a nice quiet overdoes of our lovely merchandise," said Shawn.

"Or that," Jason conceded. Dick gave him a 'you're not helping anything' look. Guess that made them even.

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick," said Thaddeus. His knees gave out. He landed on his ass on the concrete floor of the basement lab.

The sudden movement caused the thugs to panic. A couple accidently pulled the trigger. Two shots rang out under the floor of the Chaos Club. Everyone in the lab looked up at the ceiling as panic erupted above their heads. Screams of terrified club goers created a cacophony of mayhem like so many banshees rising from their graves. Hundreds of pounding feet thundered overhead.

Well, so much for quietly. Burns is gonna have our badges for this for sure.

Everyone moved at once. Shawn began shouting orders to his henchmen. The thugs realized that they had to shoot now and take advantage of the chaos or risk losing their prisoners.

Thaddeus was crying. At first, Jason was afraid it was because he'd been shot. But he quickly located the bullets tired thus far; one in the floor by his foot, three in the wall behind them, and one in Dick's left bicep. The janitor was fine. Jason would probably have slapped him in the face a couple times, but he had more important things to do. He puled a couple smoke pellets out of his back pocket, because he is always Red Hood, and Red Hood is always prepared. Smoke filled the small underground drug lab and Jason quickly ducked behind the cover.

He found his brother and put a hand on his back. "You OK, bro?"

Dick nodded curtly. "Fine. It just grazed me."

From somewhere behind their smoke screen, they could hear the thugs shouting at each other. "Don't shoot!" screamed one, "we could hit each other."

"We need to get out of here yesterday," said Jason.

"Grab Thaddeus," said Dick as he got up and sprinted for the escape hatch leading back into the broom closet. Jason caught the lest few seconds of his brother's leap through the hatch; he disappeared above their heads in a graceful flash because Dick Grayson doesn't need ladders.

Jason grabbed Thaddeus by the back of his tee-shirt and hauled him to his feet. He began shoving the man over to the escape ladder just as Shawn's thugs found their way through the smoke. Bullets began to fly again and the janitor screamed.

"Alright Pusey-cat, upsy-daisy," said Jason.

Jason shoved Thaddeus up through the hatch to Dick who hoisted him the rest of the way. Jason was forced to dodge a punch from one of the men that got close enough. He threw a hit of his own before launching himself upwards through the hatch to follow Thaddeus and his brother. Dick caught him around the wrist and pulled him the rest of the way through. Jason slammed the hatch closed over one of the men attempting to follow them and knocked a shelf of cleaning supplies over the opening. But it wouldn't hold them off for long. Bullets shot through the floor.

Dick looked amused. "Did you just say 'upsy-daisy'?"

"Shut up," said Jason.

Upstairs, the Chaos Club was in chaotic disarray as the last of the dancers fled out into the night. The DJ had long since abandoned his post, but the loud music still blasted away unattended. The dance floor was littered with solo cups and broken glasses. Jackets had been felt on the backs of chairs. There were even a couple cellphones left on the bar or on the floor beside overturned tables. The screams of terrified dancers filled the night as people poured out into the Bludhaven streets.

Yep. We're busted, thought Jason.

"We're gonna die!" screamed Thaddeus.

No, you're going to die if you don't shut up. Jason pulled out his gun and switched off the safety.

Another secret door, this one on the main floor, opened up. Shawn and his men had taken the alternate passage. Figures. Because otherwise our escape would have been too easy. The thugs rushed them. Jason got read to fire a shot when remembered the extra paperwork it would mean. Shit. He hesitated.

"Go, go, go! Back to the Bieber-mobile," shouted Dick. He began pushing them all through the swing door that led back into what turned out to be the kitchen. They raced out the back door, down three concrete steps, and out into a narrow alleyway. There was one yellow streetlight above, a couple rusty fire escapes, and a few loose trash bags. Otherwise, the street was deserted. Good. No one else would get hurt.

"What now?" shouted Jason as they ran.

"I think we should bring out the big gun," said Dick.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "The big gun didn't fit under the plain clothes remember?"

"I meant the big Red gun," said Dick.

Oh? Oh. Jason risked a glance over his shoulder. Would he have time to change into Red Hood and mop this up? Probably. But that would mean leaving Dick and Thaddeus to fend for themselves. Under most circumstances, that wouldn't be a problem for Dick. But with the janitor practically glued to his hip, it wouldn't be safe for him to pull a Nightwing if he needed too. Things weren't desperate enough to warrant getting out the "big red gun" so, pass. They could still handle this the old fashioned way.

"Negative," said Jason, "let's just get back to the Bieber-mobile. If we lead them to the sea-can depot in the harbor, nobody'll get hurt. Place is deserted after 10."

"Alright, high speed chase in the Bieber-mobile it is," said Dick, "seriously, we need to break this streak. That's two this month."

"Highs-speed chase? Twice in one month? And what the fuck is a Bieber-mobile," demanded Thaddeus.

"The bane of my existence," answered Jason.

They ran. Around the next corner, Dick's green Chevy was waiting at the side of the curb. The headlights flashed twice as Dick remotely unlocked the vehicle.

"You good to drive with that arm?" Jason asked as he yanked open the passenger side door.

"Yeah, yeah," said Dick sliding over the hood to the opposite side of the car.

"You sure?" Jason pressed.

"Yep. I'm not the one who chugged a beer five minutes ago." He turned the key and the engine came alive.

"Should either of you be driving?" Thaddeus demanded from the back seat. "Are you sure you guys are cops?"

"I hope Shawn kills him, because I'm about to," said Jason.

Thaddeus blanched.

"Buckle up butter-cup," said Dick.

The scream from the back seat was deafening as Dick pulled away from the curb in record speed. Shawn and his men had managed to follow them to the car and were now on hot on their tail in a black pickup truck. Jason watched them through the back windshield. Dick took the empty alleys and back streets leading the chase away from the majority of Bludhaven's traffic. Jason pulled out his phone and sent a call into the station advising Redhorn to bring a squad to meet them at the docks.

Things were going pretty well on the practical front all things considered.

Things were not going so well on the impractical front. Since Batman's little revenge prank in the last episode, the Chevy still refused to play anything other than Justin Bieber music. No matter what they did, neither Dick nor Jason—not even Tim—were able to get the blasted thing to shut up. That is how the soundtrack for this particular car chase turned out to be a little incongruous with the situation. And also, really fucking annoying.

And embarrassing.

After a moth of exclusively listening to Justin Bieber on the way to work and the grocery store, Jason could safely say he had every song memorized. He would also say that it was an accident.

It was an accident that he started singing along to Despacito as they sped down 49th street.

Horns were blasting. Lights were being run. Stop signs abused. Cars and people forced to scatter. There was lots of swerving and sharp breaking. The occasional bullet went flying. And Justin Bieber just kept on singing; and so did Jason.

"Are you sing Despacito?" screamed Thaddeus, "during a car chase!"

"No!" shouted Jason.

"He is," said Dick.

"Watch the road moron!" snapped Jason.

Dick yanked hard on the wheel, pulling them into the straightway parallel to the pier. "Prank war went out of control. Now my car only plays Bieber music."

Jason braced himself against the dashboard as Dick brought the Chevy into a controlled fishtail around the curb. They pulled into the docks. Asphalt became wooden beams and old cobblestone. They were in the home stretch.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," said Thaddeus.

Jason turned back to look at him. "Hurl in my car and I will make you lick it up off the seats."

"That's disgusting, Jason," said Dick, "yahh…ikes!"

They were out in the open and Jason could see Redhorn's men waiting to take Shawn and his men into custody. They made it. Everything should have been perfect. They could come to a graceful stop, save a little dignity, show Burns a thing or two, and reveal just how good they were. They could have. Except Dick yanked on the wheel again with a scream or alarm and crashed them into a sea-can. The airbags went off and smoke exploded under the hood.

After a couple seconds of stunned silence, Jason exploded himself. "Dick, what the hell?"

"There was a kitten!" came the unbelievable response.

Jason let his face fall into the airbag on his lap. "Oh my god! You totaled the car because of a kitten. Only you, Dick Grayson. Guns, fine. Car chase, fine. Crashing the Chevy, fine. Hit the cat, not fine."

"At least the radio still works," Dick pointed out.

"Unfortunately," said Jason. The track switched over and he got an ear full of Never Say Never.

10 Minutes Later:

Redhorn had Shawn and his men rounded up. As Jason predicted, Detective Burns was furious. They had somehow managed to turn a simple get some intel from an informant into a shootout at a nightclub and a highspeed car chase down the back alleys of Bludhaven. In the detective's words, it was a miracle no one was hurt. The press was going to have a field day and the BPD was going to be doing damage control for a long time.

The police chief himself, while not particularly pleased with the insanity of the proceedings, was less critical. He was more interested in getting the men processed and prosecuted than getting bogged down in the particulars of their performance in the field. The old chief gave Jason an amused shake of the head when they finally emerged from the ruins of the Chevy and sent Dick off with the first aid team to get stitched up.

After that, things slowed down a little and some of the patrol cars went back to the station with the prisoners. Jason, Burns, Redhorn, and Thaddeus were soon left standing in a cluster between the remaining cop cars on the pier. Red and blue lights flashed brightly in the dark, close enough to be a little bothersome.

Jason folded his arms over his chest and elected to ignore Burns' comments on, well, everything. He was tired of getting chewed out for their stunts of the evening; which included, but were not limited to: their driving stunts (Dick's fault), getting shot at (Thaddeus's fault), starting a city wide panic (Shawn's fault), ect. Dick was lucky Redhorn sent him away to get patched up because by all rights he should be listening to every word of this lecture. The bastard.

Finally, Redhorn put an end to the detective's second tirade of the evening. "Alright Burns, I think he gets it. After we get the official report, we'll take the necessary steps. Now, I need to thank our informant here for tipping us off. I'm guessing that would be you, son."

"Right here," said Thaddeus.

Redhorn smirked as he offered his hand to the still shaking Chaos Club janitor. "Ah, so you're Pusey-cat."

For his part, Thaddeus was pretty red in the face. "It was all I could think of on short notice."

Jason smirked. "It's his profile name on Tinder."

"Whatever, Officer Belieber," said Thaddeus.

"Very funny," said Jason, "of course you realize, this means war."

Group Chat with Tim, Dick, Jason, and Alfred:

TIM: Pusey-cat, Pusey-cat where have you been?

JASON: I don't know how you found out about that Replacement, but I will murder you

DICK: I Belieb you XD

TIM: Hahaha

[JASON has changed the name of this conversation to: Two dead Robins, a butler, and the Arkham Reaper]