CHAPTER 9

Dick had his own problems that morning. His first 'class' of the day was Group. He showed up at the room assigned and found a circle of chairs filled with other boys and a female 'counselor'.

"All right, boys," she said, pleasantly enough. "Today we're going to talk about our families. I want you to dig deep for those feelings and try to express them fully. Let's start with Bill." She looked expectantly at a blond kid in jeans.

Bill looked like a bug pinned under a microscope. He hemmed and hawed and finally said, "my family loves me. That's why they sent me here so I could get better."

"You feel rejected, don't you, Billy? Your family couldn't stand you and shipped you four states away to rot. They never call. They never write. That makes you feel like shit, doesn't it?" the counselor said cheerfully.

Dick couldn't believe what he was hearing. This woman couldn't be a real psychologist...could she? "That's not fair!" popped out of his mouth before he realized it. The counselor's head swiveled toward Dick.

"Oh, a comment from our newest student. Dick Grayson, right?" she said.

At his nod, she went on. "You certainly must have some family issues to share with us, don't you? Let's see, your file says that you watched your parents murdered at the age of eight and were taken in by a wealthy guardian in Gotham City. I also see that while he's had custody of you for six years, he's made no attempt to adopt you. Doesn't that make you feel somehow second-best, Dick? He's had every chance to make you his own son, but hasn't taken it...How does that make you feel?"

Dick could feel the heat rising in his face. "Bruce has his reasons," he sputtered. "He loves me like a son. I know he does!"

She looked at him with contemptuous pity. "And what does the rest of the group make of this?"

A red-headed kid, older than Dick, snorted. "You're just fooling yourself, Grayson. You're the one Bruce Wayne took in, right? You're just a publicity stunt to him, like a pet."

"No! It's not like that!" Dick shouted desperately.

"Well he obviously doesn't want or need a son," a freckled kid in khakis said. "He hasn't bothered to make it official, has he? You were probably something he added to his list of things he wanted but didn't have...let's see-got the fancy car, got the mansion, got the super-model girlfriend...what do I need now? I know! A kid!"

"It's okay, Dick," the counselor said kindly. "Most of the kids at this school have parents who don't really care about them. Now tell us something about your guardian. Why do you think he sent you here?"

"Um...Because I got caught with sixteen baggies of meth at a party," Dick said, glad to finally be on familiar ground. "He didn't want me to go to juvenile hall, he said."

"So he dumped you," the freckled kid said. "Just like my parents dumped me. Why is he your guardian anyway? You a relative?"

"No. He felt sorry for me after I lost my parents. His died too, when he was about my age," Dick said softly. This was all getting much to deep and close to the bone.

"A charity case? Probably gave Mr. Wayne some good P.R. I'm sure you feel rejected, Dick, since he sent you away," the counselor offered. "Tell us about how much you hate him for that."

"But, I don't..." Dick started.

"Of course you do," the counselor said and began to grill him even more.

By the end of the session, Dick was in a cold sweat and hoped he hadn't disclosed any secrets. He'd been raked over the coals by every kid in the room, reminded of how worthless a gypsy circus brat was, and how unrealistic he was expecting Bruce Wayne to give a damn.

He bumped into Chris on his way to his science class. "So, GD, you look pretty shitty. What's up?" Chris asked.

"I just got out of Group and..." Chris stopped him.

"Group, huh? Let me give you a little free advice about Group. Never tell the truth in there. They'll take your secrets and twist them against you. That so-called counselor hasn't even been to college. She doesn't know what she's doing and makes it up as she goes along. Hamilton hired her because he's cheap! When they pick on you, just make something up! Nobody tells the truth in group!"

Dick sighed with relief. Maybe there was nothing wrong or strange about his loyalty to Bruce. And Bruce had only fought against this undercover work to try and protect him. Okay, reality had righted itself. He felt better now. He hurried, trying to get to his next class. He stopped when he heard the sound of a helicopter coming in. He went to a window and watched it land in the barren flat that the school called the P.E. field.

In the distance he saw a tall, bespectacled Asian man in a gray suit alight from the copter. He was met by both Hamilton and Harrison, then escorted into the Administration building. Something about the man in the gray suit looked vaguely familiar to Dick, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Frowning, he realized that the hallway was empty and raced to his next class. The punishment for tardiness didn't bear thinking about.

HAMILTON SCHOOL

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE SUITE

"Mr. Pak! How very good it is to see you again so soon," Hamilton said effusively to the Asian man, now seated in a chair. "And tell me, how is the Generalissimo? Happy with his latest purchase?"

Mr. Pak's sour face grew even more vinegary at Hamilton's question. "The purchase in question has died," he said shortly. "He was unable to...endure...the power of the Generalissimo's regard." He sat up more stiffly. "In fact, my employer is quite disappointed in the quality of your last shipment. He has commissioned me to acquire another, healthier specimen." Pak adjusted his glasses and glared at Hamilton. "Hopefully a boy who has not lived at your school very long and consumed the unhealthy diet served here."

"I...see," Hamilton said, leaning back in his chair. "We may have just the boy to suit his needs. A new student, only been here two days, but I must warn you, the youth is athletic and has a troublesome nature. He was able to do some damage to Mr. Harrison while we were escorting him to the school." He gestured towards Harrison, who nodded vigorously.

"Mr. Pak, I'd ask you to reconsider your request," Hamilton went on smoothly. "Our newest student hasn't been tamed yet and may cause considerable trouble for the Generalissimo..."

Pak cut him short with a wave of his hand. "No matter. I have my instructions and will carry them out. And, in any case, the Generalissimo has a large security staff. When the boy finds himself far from home and friendless, he do as he is told. Now. May I take delivery today?"

Hamilton nodded. "Very well. I think the boy in question is in class right now. Mr. Harrison, will you arrange it?"

Harrison left the room.

Mr. Pak pulled a large wad of cash out of his briefcase and laid it on the table. "My employer wishes for you and Mr. Harrison to join him at his private island as well. He wants to meet with you personally to assure himself that you understand his requirements and are able to fulfill them, as well as keeping these transactions confidential."

Hamilton tucked the money away in a drawer. "Of course, we're happy to meet with such a distinguished client. Both Harrison and I very much enjoyed our last visit and look forward to meeting with him again. When do we leave?"

"As soon as the boy is loaded. We'll all travel together," Pak said crisply. "I must admit that this was all a great deal easier when my employer was collecting young blonde girls."

"I do understand, Mr. Pak. But please be assured that we do our very best to acquire boys that fit the Generalissimo's new specifications. Ah, here is Harrison and the boy."

The office door had opened and a scowling Dick Grayson was frog marched into the room, his hands and feet shackled with Harrison behind him, glowering. Hamilton and Pak noted the fresh black eye and split lip adorning Harrison's face.

"As you can see, Mr. Pak," Hamilton said. "The boy is fairly boisterous. But if you believe that you can handle him, we're happy to supply him."

Pak opened his briefcase again and removed a pre-loaded syringe. "That can be dealt with easily enough. This should keep him out for the duration of the flight. Hold him still, please," he said to Harrison.

Harrison clamped his arms around the struggling boy. As Pak drew nearer, Dick's eyes widened. He knew who this man was! He knew where he was going and the monster who awaited him there. He began to struggle harder, biting frantically at Harrison's arm and hands. Pak moved in quickly and injected the boy with the chemical, draining the syringe.

Slowly, the boy's struggles began to falter until he slumped against Harrison. "I'll take it from here, Harrison," Hamilton said, wrapping a series of blankets around the boy. "You go have the nurse look at those bite marks. We'll leave when you get back."

Bruce had just entered the school gates when he saw the helicopter take off. Damn! What had happened in his absence? Another boy dropped off? Or one taken away? He pulled a receiver out of his pocket and checked it. The signal was steady and showed that the transmitter was sending its signal from nearby. Dick, and the shoes that he'd put the transmitter in were both here at the school. If anybody had been taken, it wasn't Dick.