CHAPTER 5
"A little bird in a house full of cats."
Bruce went silent, his face cold and still. Oh, he was really, really mad this time. Dick couldn't contain himself. "Bruce, I'm sorry I pushed you into this, but it's really important to me."
"So I gathered," Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I thought that judge was going to have a stroke right then and there."
"So…uh….why did you give in? I know how set you were against my going to that school," Dick's curiosity, always present, clearly needed satisfaction.
"Dick, you were charged with not one, but two felonies," Bruce ticked off his fingers. "One, possession of methamphetamine for sale, and two, burglarizing the police evidence room. You freely admitted to both and you could have ended up in a youth prison for several years, depending on how angry the judge got." Bruce cast a sardonic glance Dick's way. "And I can tell you that you truly managed to piss her off. In all likelihood you wouldn't have seen the light of day until you were thirty-five!" Bruce's face sagged. "You've made your bed, son, and now you get to lie in it. I won't be able to help you. I have a series of meetings in Japan that I have to attend. I'm flying out tonight."
Dick's face dropped. "Oh. Okay. I understand." He looked up again. "It's my case and I'll work it the way you taught me to, Bruce."
"I'm sorry, chum," Bruce said. "I did warn you."
"In the meantime," Alfred said from the front seat. "I shall organize your kit for the school and otherwise make the necessary arrangements, lad. You won't be all alone."
"Thanks, Alfred," Dick said, the flush of victory fading away. He'd fought so hard to be able to conduct this investigation that now, after he'd won, he felt…empty. Straighten up, Grayson! he reminded himself. You asked for this and you got it. Now you need to plan, just like Batman would do.
Dinner was quiet, as Bruce seemed to be meditating to himself and Dick felt embarrassed about the whole thing. He'd won, sure, but at what cost? He'd manipulated Bruce into doing something he clearly didn't want . Dick sighed and played with his fork.
"Master Dick, you aren't eating. You should enjoy my gourmet cooking while you can. I thought you liked soufflé."
"I do, Alfred," Dick said dully. "Um…Bruce?"
"Yes, Dick?" Bruce said, looking tired over his coffee cupl.
"I'm…I'm sorry, I did all that. I know all you want is to keep me safe. And I know how lucky I am that somebody cares what happens to me," Dick's expression grew solemn as he remembered those terrible days at the youth center when nobody wanted him. "I just want you to know. I apologize. I hope you're not still mad at me," he said softly.
"I'm not mad at you," Bruce replied. "I'm just worried about you and unhappy at this pit you've dug for yourself. I understand your need to help your friend and that you want Robin to work independently on occasion. I guess you're just growing up and I have to get used to that."
"As long as you aren't mad," Dick said with a cheeky grin. "That's all I care about."
Dick and Alfred saw Bruce off at the airport. Dick was conscious of a lump in his throat as he watched the Wayne Enterprises private jet take off. He really was on his own for this one. He hoped…no, he straightened up…he knew he could handle it.
Alfred watched the boy with wise eyes. "Master Dick," he said. "You will be leaving for school in two days. We should go home and finish packing."
Dick watched Bruce's jet trail off into the distance and nodded. "Okay, Alfie. Let's do this."
TWO DAYS LATER- MORNING
3 A.M.
Dick woke from a deep sleep to the sound of his bedroom door being slammed open. A tall, burly shape rushed over to him and pinned his arms to the bed before he could react. Automatically, Dick kicked at the attacker and managed to get a good hit to the guy's gut before the man used his superior strength and weight to wrestle him back to the bed.
In the meantime, Dick was shouting for Alfred at the top of his lungs. When Alfred didn't come, he became certain that they'd somehow incapacitated or…killed?...the old man. What a thing to happen when Bruce wasn't home to help defend Wayne Manor. Still struggling, Dick was pulled upright by his hair and first one hand and then the other locked into handcuffs. Still kicking, the boy was shoved facedown onto the bed and his ankles shackled as well. A low, grumbly voice said in his ear, "So, rich boy, you wanna fight back? Let's see how much fight you got left when I'm done with you…"
A second tall man entered the room and turned the lights on. Dick was blinded for a second, then saw that the second man wore a gray suit. "Who are you? What do you want? Money? Bruce has it in spades! Call him! He'll pay you anything you want, just don't hurt anybody… And where's Alfred? What have you done to Alfred?" Dick looked around wildly as he was hauled out of bed and dragged to the door of the bedroom. Kidnap. This was obviously a kidnap. They had waited until Bruce was gone and moved in to kidnap him. But what happened to Alfred? He swore to himself that if they'd hurt the old man, they'd pay, and forget Bruce's strictures against killing.
Dick made his body limp, so they'd have to drag him out the door. Unfortunately, they both clearly lifted weights and carried him out easily. Dick's resistance continued until they got to the front door of the mansion. There, standing next to the open door, was Alfred, looking pale and distressed. Dick's suitcase sat on the floor next to him. At that moment, Dick felt his heart begin to break. "Alfie….?" He whispered.
"Are you quite sure, Sirs, that this is required in your treatment protocol?" Alfred asked. "The young master is not accustomed to being manhandled. I wish that Master Bruce were here to discuss this with you."
The man in the suit smiled easily. Dick could see his gold cufflinks sparkle in the light of the foyer chandelier. "I assure you, Mr. Pennyworth, this is absolutely normal. We usually find that it's necessary to escort our students to the school. If they know about it in advance, they often run. This really is the best way to handle it. And since young Richard is known to be an athlete, we felt that the personal touch was more important."
Alfred met Dick's eyes as he answered. "Of course, Mr. Hamilton, we wish to follow all of the standard protocols required by your therapeutic approach. Master Bruce was most disappointed in the recent changes in the young Master. I know that he feels strongly that Dick needs no special favors because of his status as Mr. Wayne's ward."
The suited man, Mr. Hamilton, said, ""Trust me, Dick will be treated like any other student. The next time you see him, you'll find a well-behaved, happy young man. Our methods work; the court that sent him to us did the kid a favor."
Dick got Alfred's point. Stay in character; this was all part of the charade. Okay, he could do that. He started kicking and screaming again. "Alfred! How could you? When Bruce gets back I'll make sure he fires you! You'll never work as a butler again after this! Let…me….go!" Dick aimed both his feet in a kick to his captor's shoulder, forcing him to drop the boy. Before he could scramble to his feet and away from the men, Hamilton had grabbed him and put him into a chokehold. Couldn't breathe….the world swam into a kaleidoscopic series of images until the last thing he saw was Alfred's horrified face before the world went gray.
Dick woke up in a small airplane. He kept his eyes closed, listening to the sound of the engines. He heard the two talking. One was in the seat next to his, the other must be piloting. Carefully, he tested his feet and found he was shackled to the seat…and so was his right hand.
"So, you're awake," said Hamilton. "No use keeping your eyes closed, kid. I can tell by your breathing that you're awake and I see that you've already discovered that you aren't going anywhere."
Dick opened his eyes and scowled up at Hamilton. "Bruce won't like the way you're treating me. He's rich and powerful. He'll sue you and you'll lose everything you own, down to your cufflinks!"
Hamilton's lips quirked into a smile. "Will he now? Well, Master Dick," he said, imitating Alfred's accent. "The Court put you into our hands, and that makes you ours until your time is up." He leaned back in his seat and let his eyes wander over Dick's body in a proprietary way.
Dick had a sudden urge to shiver. Nobody had ever looked at him that way, not even master criminals who were trying to kill him. "Aren't you going to tell me to behave?" he asked, forcing a confidence he didn't feel.
"No need," Hamilton stretched and reclined his seat. "You'll behave. You'll do exactly as you're told, in exactly the way you're told to do it. You're no different from any other boy we've ever seen. Your orientation will start as soon as we land."
PAHRUMP, NEVADA
MOTEL 7
A tall, unshaven man opened the door to his room and sighed with relief when the air conditioning hit him. The climate here in the high desert wasn't what he was used to. He locked the door behind him, kicked his shoes off and sat on the bed. He pulled his laptop from under the bed and flipped it open, activating it.
"Alfred, how did it go?" Bruce ran a hand through his newly dyed red hair.
The screen flickered to life, showing Alfred, clearly in the Batcave. "Good afternoon, sir. I trust your trip has been fruitful so far."
Bruce grinned, showing crooked and stained teeth in a weatherbeaten face. "Success. I have a job as the Hamilton School's newest kitchen helper."
"Oh dear," Alfred said dolorously. "You weren't able to find a position as a stable hand or physical education trainer?"
"No, all full up," Bruce replied. "Besides, how hard can it be? You gave me some quick lessons in cooking and I won't be responsible for preparing any meals except when the cook has a day off."
Alfred seemed to bite his tongue. "When that eventuality arises, remember that you can count on me for simple recipes and advice."
"I'm not worried, Alfred," Bruce said. "Any intelligent man can follow a cookbook's instructions."
"Ah yes Sir, just so," Alfred said, biting his lip. "Well, the young master has been taken away as we foresaw, although I must admit that it was as painful for me as it was for him."
Bruce clenched a hand into a fist. "They didn't hurt him, did they?"
"No, I believe not," Alfred said. "Although one of them applied a chokehold to unconsciousness, he did appear to be skilled enough not to hold it long enough to kill. I was, of course, ready to intervene had Master Dick faced any real danger." Alfred paused, a sad look in his eyes. "Still, had you seen the look of betrayal on the lad's face when he realized that I knew about this plan…I felt quite the Judas."
"Well, remember Alfred, this is Dick's case by his choice. I don't plan to intervene unless he needs help. He wants to be independent, so I'll allow it, but…"
"But you will keep an eye on him just the same," Alfred said. "I am so glad, Master Bruce. The boy is still very young." The butler focused on Bruce's face. "Might I compliment you on your disguise, Sir? I would not know you did I not recognize your voice. The teeth add a certain distraction, and I've never seen you with red hair."
Bruce grinned, showing the teeth to full advantage. "I don't think they'll confuse me with Bruce Wayne any time soon. Well, Alfred, I think I'll get some sleep. I'll be looking over the place before dawn tomorrow morning."
"You do that, Sir," Alfred replied. "And take good care of young Dick."
"Oh, I will. Count on it," Bruce said and signed off.
SMALL AIRSTRIP
40 MILES FROM PAHRUMP, NEVADA
It was dark when the plane landed. Dick couldn't see any lights or even tell how the pilot identified this chunk of dirt as an airstrip, but neither man seemed concerned.
As the plane rolled to a stop, Hamilton got up and reached for the key to Dick's shackles. "I'll let you walk, boy, to save you the indignity of being carried in. But give me even a little bit of trouble and I'll sling you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes."
Dick glared at him, still conscious of his earlier feelings of disquiet about this man. Somehow, he didn't want this guy to touch him. "I'll walk," he said.
"Good. This is Harrison," Hamilton gestured toward the other man. "Needless to say, Harrison doesn't like you very much right now. If you try to run, you'll shoot yourself in the foot. See, we're in the middle of the Nevada desert and the nearest town is forty miles away. If you do run, Harrison will be the one to go after you, and you don't want that. There's nowhere to run to in this neck of the woods, so don't even try. Understand?"
Dick looked up at the smoldering glower Harrison shot his way and nodded. Nope. No running. Not yet, anyway.