CHAPTER 10

Author's note: The flashback involving the Mad Hatter and Generalissimo Lee is taken from "Robin Year One". The base plot and much of the dialogue was written by Chuck Dixon and Scott Beatty.

Bruce pocketed the receiver and drove the van to the rear of the kitchen building where he unloaded it with Sal's help. He'd missed the lunch run, but he'd see Dick at dinnertime.

"Thanks for getting all the stuff, Malone," Sal wheezed as he hefted boxes into the walk-in refrigerator. "That's one hellacious drive to town!"

"No problem, Sal," Bruce replied, beginning to chop vegetables for yet another stew to be served that evening. He peeled the onions deftly, as Alfred had shown him, and said, "So what's the deal with the helicopter I saw taking of when I arrived? Somebody's parents come visiting?"

Sal was silent for a moment, rearranging the boxes with studied attention. "Nothin' much. Hamilton gets business visits from time to time," he said. "It isn't anything you should talk about."

"Why not?" Bruce asked, beginning to chop the onions. He wiped at his eye with the back of one hand. How Alfred chopped onions day after day in the Manor without showing up with red eyes was beyond him. He tried a shot in the dark. "Anything to do with the missing kids?"

Sal dropped a box, then heaved himself over to pick it up again with a muttered curse. "Now why would you think a thing like that?" he demanded.

"Something one of the kids said…he thought that the runaways weren't actually runaways. He said they were taken by somebody…" Bruce peeled another onion and started on it.

"Don't you say nothin' about that to nobody!" Sal said, looking around nervously. "Lissen, you and me, we get a bonus, a real good bonus, four times a year. That bonus means we stay quiet about anything we see here. Got that? That means helicopters, missing kids, the works! That bonus makes up for living in the back end of nowhere."

"Okay, so I won't talk about it," Bruce said casually. "But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to know what's goin' on…"

Sal took a large cleaver and began chopping cabbage. "I'll tell ya.." BAM! "once and once only. This is not.." BAM! "to be repeated. Especially where Hamilton can overhear ya, okay?" BAM!

"What? Are they crooks or something?" Bruce asked, eyeing Sal sharply. Generally, Sal was a cheerful, easy-going guy, but now he looked patently uncomfortable.

"Not exactly. At least, nobody could prosecute 'em here. It's been tried," Sal said, putting the cleaver down. "Like I said, you don't need to know. And trust me, you really don't want to know who they are." Sal was silent for a moment, thinking, then said, "I've been with this outfit a long time. I hate what they do to the boys. They're just kids, y'know? Maybe they stole a little, maybe they didn't get along with their families, but they're still people who deserve a fair shake. This school…When Craddock started it up, it was a fine place. Then Craddock died and Hamilton bought it."

"Go on," Bruce said, started peeling carrots. Sal calmed down a bit and continued working on the cabbages.

"Anyways, since then, it's been regular. The street kids, the ones who were professionals, y'know, before the juvie court sent 'em here, they get farmed out to 'foster homes'. 'Cept the foster homes are brothels in town that specialize in boys... And the kids in Cabin Four..."

"What about them?" Bruce said, eyes sharpening.

"They collect 'em here and ship them one at a time to some perv who lives overseas. Rich bastard. He's the one sends the helicopter. Nobody knows who he is or where he lives, just that he's far away. Hamilton's been sending him boys for the past five years...they all look about the same. Dark hair, blue eyes, short...They disappear and they never come back. Not even their families ever hear from them again."

"So who knows where the boys go?" Bruce began chopping the carrots with controlled force.

"Hey, that's a new cutting board! Go easy on it, willya? Anyway, none of us knows anything. Only Hamilton and Harrison have a clue. Safer that way. All I know is the same guy comes to pick the kids up, tall skinny Asian guy with glasses in a high-end business suit. Never heard a name. Okay, let's dump all this into the stew pot and finish the rest of dinner."

Bruce worked steadily but the niggling worry at the back of his mind kept growing. Which of the boys from Cabin Four had been taken? He wanted... no...needed to see if Dick was okay but couldn't risk checking on him because he'd blow his cover. He looked at the clock overhead and sighed with relief. Dinner time at last. He and Sal began to load the food into the trays on the cafeteria line. Sal put the last one in place and rang the bell for dinner.

As they did for every meal, the boys ran into the cafeteria and began to load up their meal trays. Bruce shoveled stew and kept his eyes peeled for one particular boy. He thought he saw him, then realized it was one of Dick's cabin mates, as much like Dick as a brother. He recalled that Dick tended to be the last in line for dinner and remembered the box of meal bars he'd gotten him; that should keep him from being hungry.

The final kids in line held out their trays for food and then Bruce was done serving. The cafeteria was full but Dick's usual place next to Jeremy was empty. Something was wrong. He began to scan the occupants of the cafeteria more sharply. Maybe Dick was seated elsewhere, not eating tonight. Or maybe he was in the box for some infraction. That must be it, it must...Bruce's eyes widened as he saw a blond haired kid seated at a table, calmly eating his dinner. He wore brand new shoes that looked exactly like Dick's. Bruce took off his apron and threw it down, slipping into the walk-in refrigerator.

A minute later, Batman appeared in the cafeteria and ran up to the kid wearing the new shoes. "Where did you get those shoes?" he demanded.

The kid's eyes widened. He scooted out of his chair and backed away. The cafeteria grew silent as the boys noticed the Bat in their midst. Batman paid no attention. He grabbed the kid by the shirt and lifted him a foot off the ground. "Where. Did. You. Get. Those. Shoes?" Batman spat out.

"I took 'em..." the kid's voice trailed off.

"Who did you steal them from?" Batman was inexorable.

"The new kid. In Cabin Four..." the kid said, tears forming in his eyes.

"Where is he?" Batman still held the kid suspended as the boy began to cry with terror.

"I dunno... I haven't seen him today...Please mister...please don't hurt me..." Batman took another look at the now sobbing boy and his face changed. He slowly lowered him to the ground.

Batman looked around the cafeteria. "Where is Dick Grayson?" he growled.

There was silence until a short figure pushed his way through the crowd. For a moment, Batman thought it was Dick himself, then he realized it was a boy from Cabin Four. "The helicopter took him," Chase said. "Harrison took him out of class, like they always do. Dick was struggling pretty hard, but Harrison punched him and hauled him out. Ten minutes later the 'copter took off."

"Where?" Batman demanded in a harsh voice.

"I don't know. Nobody knows where they take the kids. Except Hamilton and Harrison and they went too," Chase mumbled.

SOMEWHERE

Dick woke up feeling groggy and with a splitting headache. He opened his eyes to a blurry world. He was lying on something soft...a bed, he thought. But he felt cold...He sat up unsteadily and realized he was in his shorts and that was it. His blood ran cold as his analytically trained mind ran through the possibilities. He was alone in the room, thank God. He checked himself for injury and found nothing new. He decided that, for now, nothing had happened and he was fine. He also needed to get the heck out of here! He climbed off the bed and tried the door. Locked. And the door was made of steel with a metal frame, set into the wall.

He went back to the bed, noting that it was a twin bed with a sports-themed bedspread suitable for a boy's room. A huge flat screen television took up one wall and a game system was attached to it. A computer sat on a desk with various game controllers plugged in. He ran to the computer and booted it up. If he could get to the internet he could call for help and...ah, no...No internet access, just dozens of games.

He saw toys and sports equipment stacked all around the relatively large suite. Bathroom was fully stocked with towels and soap. Nothing to use as a weapon; no so much as a toothbrush or comb. Closet had no clothing in it, neither did the dresser.

There was nothing sharp anywhere, not so much as a pencil he could use to stab with. He ran his gaze along the ceiling. No vents. No windows. Lighting was recessed and...protected by bars...He bit his lip. Not lookin' good at all. Room decoration was painted on; no picture frames with glass or wood to turn into weaponry.

He was starting to fight down panic. He took a couple of deep breaths and did a quick mediation exercise that Bruce had taught him, then went to try the door again. He couldn't just sit still, he had to do something!

For the umpteenth time since his rude awakening and escort to the Hamilton School, Dick kicked himself for maneuvering around Bruce to investigate this case. Okay, Bruce, you were right. I'm just a dumb fourteen year old who doesn't know my own limits. You're older, faster and smarter than I am. How 'bout you come and rescue my sorry ass?

He sat down on the bed again, wrapping a blanket around himself. Gotta try and think this through. Where am I? Probably somewhere in Rheelasia; Mr. Pak is Singh Manh Lee's tool. He does all his dirty work, his...procuring...Dick gulped and closed his eyes briefly. Okay, Grayson, no panicking here. Gotta try to think clearly. I'm in Rheelasia, a rogue nation with no ties to the free world except those with criminal organizations. I'm in the hands of the President-for-Life of Rheelasia, Generalissimo Singh Manh Lee...known pedophile, that slug!... I am just glad that Jenny is safe from him and the Mad Hatter. I guess the Generalissimo has given up using the Mad Hatter's mind-control methods on his victims...Or at least, he hasn't tried anything on me yet...He shivered, not entirely with cold.

He remembered when he'd first seen Mr. Pak and the Generalissimo. Bruce had held yet another one of his society parties at the Manor. At least the food was good; Alfred was circulating, along with the hired waters, with some of his best canapés. Dick stuffed one into mouth, ignoring Alfred's frown, and turned as Bruce put a hand on his tuxedoed shoulder.

"Have you met my ward? Dick, this is Generalissimo Singh Manh Lee..."

"Aren't you the little heartbreaker," cooed the blonde on Lee's left arm.

"...President of Rheelasia," Bruce continued, giving the blonde a smarmy smile.

Dick bowed as Alfred had taught him and shook the moist hand of a man who looked like a toad. He was squat and round with an equally round face, glittering eyes and a smile that Dick could only call sleazy. Lee's interested glance ran from the top of Dick's head, over his body and down to his polished shoes, leaving him feeling...dirty. He was glad when Lee released his hand. As the Generalissimo turned away, Dick surreptitiously wiped it on his trousers.

Later that night, while on patrol, they had learned from Gordon about the latest crime wave: the disappearance of little girls in Gotham City. Batman had beat up...uh...interviewed the usual suspects and got nothing. Dick remembered overhearing Alfred and Bruce talking about the kidnappings.

"I sense an air of defeat. Tonight's efforts were unrewarding?" Alfred had asked, holding the tray of steaming hot cocoa for the tired crime fighters.

Bruce looked downcast and took a cup from the tray. "Eight girls missing and no motive in sight."

"And you fear the worst? Of course. You always fear the worst," Alfred had said.

Dick settled into the computer chair and started running searches against the criminal database to find somebody with a similar m.o. Trouble was, there was no shortage of suspects. He'd had no idea there were so many pedophiles in the world. It had been a long night and the screen began to blur as Robin stifled a yawn.

"No ransom demands. No apparent pattern. Those girls are in danger. I can feel it," Bruce said grimly.

"Well, tomorrow is another day, Sir," Alfred, as always, tried to put a cheerful note on it. "Perhaps something will emerge in the morning."

"And tonight's a school night, Dick. You'd better get some...sleep." Dick heard Bruce's voice a million miles away as his mentor chuckled and picked him up. He snuggled close to Bruce as he was carried up to bed and tucked in.

The next morning, to Dick's unhappy amazement, the newspaper showed a ninth girl had been kidnapped; someone he knew. Jenny Noblesse, a cute girl in his class who had been acting like she liked him. A lot.

When Bruce saw Dick's expression, he warned him to be careful.

"Dick...Dick!" Bruce put a big hand on Dick's shoulder. "I need you to be clear-headed, Dick. Now that the news is out, whoever's behind this will most likely go to ground...Which makes our job that much harder."

Dick put the paper down. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go to school. Talk to her friends. Dig around and see what you can find."

"Then what?" Dick asked.

"Then we'll pick up the trail after dark tonight," Bruce said with a smile. Finally, they might be able to do something.

Dick smiled back and got up from the table. Bruce called over his shoulder. "Dick! One more thing..."

"Yeah?"

"Stay out of trouble!"

Staying out of trouble had been hard when they pulled all of Jenny's friends into the principal's office for interviews. So, Dick did whatever was necessary so that he could be in the same area to overhear. Of course the fact that he enjoyed it was beside the point.

Waiting outside the principal's office, Dick climbed up the door with one foot firmly planted on the doorknob and listened to everything. Trouble was, nobody had noticed anything unusual. He rushed to sit back down on the bench when the principal led the last interviewee out the door. The principal then looked at Dick's hopeful face and said, "Mr. Grayson, is it? Why don't you come inside and help me get to the root of this 'spitball problem'?"

After his scolding, Dick had gone and talked to Jenny's friend Claire himself. The day before, both girls had walked past a funny little man in a strange hat who'd given them free mp3 players and headphones. Only Claire's didn't work but Jenny's did. Later, Jenny had walked right past Claire without saying a word, 'dissing' her. Dick frowned. "Where is this guy?"

Claire pointed down the street and Dick saw a girl put on some headphones, then walk away as if in a dream. "Hey mister! You got anymore headphones?" Dick called as he ran over.

"I'm sorry, young sir, but we're all out." Said the man, hastily packing up his stand. "Why don't you try again tomorrow? Perhaps we'll have some more..." The man closed his box and scuttled away into a van. It revved it's engine and sped away with a squeal of tires.

Dick hoisted his backpack on his shoulders and took to the rooftops, following the van as it ran down the twisty alleys of Gotham. He lost it at a sharp corner when he ran out of rooftop. Watching the van race away, he swore to himself, "This ends tonight."

Dick called Alfred and had him bring a few things, as well as his Robin costume. Bruce was going to a dinner on the yacht of a visiting dignitary, the President of Rheelasia. Time was short, Dick knew. He'd handle this himself.

Beginning in the alley near Gotham Academy, Alfred drove the limo through the neighborhood while, Robin, in the back seat, began to triangulate on the headphones' signal. He figured it had to be short range and low power..."Got it. Let's turn up the gain," Robin said. Both heard strange music with words interspersed in it: 'Awaken and obey' repeated multiple times.

The limo stopped where the signal was the strongest, in a courtyard of warehouses in the canal district.

"The signal's coming from here, Alfred," Robin pointed to the large building.

"Should I call Master Bruce now?" Alfred asked.

Robin got out of the car. "The place looks empty. I should check it out first."

"If you think that's wise," Alfred said doubtfully.

"Don't you ever relax?" Robin said with a smile.

"With difficulty, Sir," the butler sighed.

Robin ran through the building, looking down at a table set for tea from the rafters. "This is weird," he muttered. Then he heard the music. "Looks like someone is home," he said into his communicator. He flinched at the gunshot that tore past his shoulder and dove for the floor. The china on the table shattered with the next shot. Robin found a tin of Darjeeling tea, knocked to the floor by the gunshot and grinned. He tossed it overhead, drawing the mook's fire and, incidentally, exploding fine grains of tea into the angry gunman's eyes.

"I'm gonna tear you apart...you little louse!" the gunman shouted, climbing up into the rafters after Robin. "The Hatter don't like snoops!"

"The hatter?" Robin said, aiming his batarang carefully. "Now the tea party makes sense." He cast the 'rang and neatly coiled the line around the guy's ankles. A quick shove pushed the guy over the side and left him suspended there.

"So where do I find this hatter?" Robin smirked from the beam, eyeing the dizzy looking man hanging down below.

"Why should I tell...uffff..you?" the man grunted queasily.

"'Cause if you don't, I'll leave you there till your head pops."

Robin was quickly headed out to sea on a sea scooter, quickly finding himself at President Lee's yacht. As he tied up at the yacht, he heard Bruce's faint voice, talking on his cell phone. "Go ahead Alfred...And what exactly do you mean by a 'solo flight'?..."

Robin knew that Batman would not be pleased at his going out alone on this one, but there just wasn't any time. Hatter had kidnapped nine girls, delivered to Singh Manh Lee at his yacht. From there, Lee would take them outside United States waters and would be home free. And the girls? Robin knew that, at nine years old, he didn't know a lot about the world at large. But whatever Lee meant to do with them, it couldn't be good.

Robin climbed in through an open porthole and found the girls in a cargo hold. Each girl was dressed like Alice from Alice in Wonderland and wore a blonde wig, even Jenny. They were wrapped in blankets and still wore the headphones that kept them under control. He ran to Jenny and tried to wake her up. She just muttered and went back to sleep. "Yeesh! What did they do to you?" He shook her harder, then ducked at the sound of a gunshot. There, silhouetted in the doorway was Jervis Tetch, aka the Mad Hatter.

Meanwhile, up on deck, Bruce was fuming. Robin shouldn't have taken it upon himself to run this case solo. It was much too dangerous and since Bruce was here as Bruce Wayne, he couldn't help the boy as Batman if he got into trouble. Sipping at his drink, Bruce saw the light of coast guard cutters in the distance. Good. Alfred had called the police. Now to make sure that they caught up with the yacht before they were into international waters. He strolled onto the bridge and began to examine the control room.

"Let me get this straight," Bruce said to the captain. "You say that this little number tells the ship where to go?"

The captain nervously held his hands up. "You must leave, Mr. Wayne. The bridge is restricted to crew members only. Our navigational equipment is very sensitive..."

Bruce smiled as the onboard security grabbed his arm and let his hand tilt. "Oh dear..." he said as he martini sloshed all over the navigational controls. "Oopsie. I think I spilled my drink...I don't suppose one of you gentlemen would care to fetch me another glass...?" he said over the sparks and smoke emanating from the electronics.

In the cargo hold, Robin heard a loud voice from the doorway. "Consider that a warning shot, young sir. Come out where I can see you better, or next time it's off with your..." Tetch's voice was cut off by the batarang that knocked his hat off. To Robin's glee, the girls started waking up.

"Tetch! What have you done?" A tall, thin Asian man in a gray suit stood in the doorway, holding a gun. Mr. Pak. Dick remembered him from the party; he'd been in Generalissimo Lee's entourage.

Robin dove past Mr. Pak as the man started shooting in his wake. In the engine room, Robin flipped and rolled behind the huge pipes that ran across. Pak caught sight of him and fired. Robin ducked and the bullet hit a steam pipe, filling the entire room with mist. He could hear Tetch and Pak stumbling and cursing at each other. He slid up to Pak in the fog and belted him one in the chops, knocking him out cold. Tetch managed to hit his head on a pipe and knocked himself out. Robin didn't hear the sound of a third person moving quickly away from the door.

After securing Pak and Tetch, he crept upstairs to the deck and saw that the Gotham Coast Guard had arrived and were interviewing the kidnap victims. "There's another man that was there," said Jenny, pointing to Lee. "That guy!"

"Do you know anything about this, sir?" the officer asked him.

Lee's face was red and he looked upset. "I have diplomatic immunity. Besides, do you really feel you are within your rights to arrest the president of a sovereign nation?" he said, eyes glinting.

Robin came forward and gave his statement to the police, implicating Mr. Pak in the kidnapping plot. To his dismay, the police only arrested Tetch. Pak, as a member of the diplomatic mission to Gotham, had the same immunity as his master. Dick watched Generalissimo Lee as the girls were taken off the yacht and put into the patrol boats. The President's expression was of sullen displeasure. He licked his lips with unsatisfied greed as he watched each little girl removed from his grasp and taken away to safety. No, Robin decided, Lee wasn't a toad. He was a slug. A big, greasy slug that had been deprived of its dinner. He knew that Bruce wasn't pleased that he'd interfered in the case, especially without Batman's permission or supervision. But he was satisfied that he'd done good work, especially since Jenny and eight other girls were going home now.

He'd never thought to see Mr. Pak again, much less his master. The door to the room opened abruptly. Dick shot up and ran to the door of the bathroom, ready to lock himself in. Mr. Pak, who had opened the door, gave him a sardonic look. "The bathroom door doesn't have a lock, so don't try to hide. The Generalissimo wants to meet you. Come on." He advanced forward and grabbed for Dick's wrist.

Dick danced back and out of Pak's reach. "I'm not going anywhere until you give me some clothes."

"You're dressed enough," Pak said, not moving. "I can leave you here, but I promise you won't like the punishment that disobedience brings."

Dick continued to back away and dance out of reach. "I'd rather stay here." Pak lunged for him and Dick gave a laugh as he bounced up onto the computer table and dove for the dresser. From the top of the dresser, he flew out the open door and into a short hallway. Running as fast as he could, Dick plowed through the next door and into a large room where he stopped dead.

The room was painted a stark black and was covered with huge glossy colored photographs...of Robin. Robin fighting. Robin flying on a jump line. Robin with Batman obviously cut out of the scene. A young, ten year old Robin, perched on top of the gargoyles of Gotham Cathedral. A slightly older Robin leaning against the Batmobile in an alley. Everywhere he looked, he saw himself, photographed over the past five years. A huge monitor hung on the wall, running a film of Robin diving off a building, doing a quad flip and landing with ease on the ground.

A sudden terror filled him. Lee didn't want just any boy. He'd spent all this time, collecting Robin lookalikes. He wanted Robin. And now he had him.