Summary: Robin visits a trusted friend; the teens enjoy a brief, quiet respite.
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Alpha-Omega Protocol
By Syl Francis
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The Lair
Day 1/1700 EDT
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Back at the Lair, the YJ team set to work. Robin opened the weapons vault and took out several items that could be of use: utility belts, gas pellets, gas grenades, explosive batarangs, and more. Quickly, he gave his teammates instructions on each item and how to load it with the aerosol antidote. Leaving Artemis in charge—she being the only other teammate who used defensive weapons—Dick changed into civilian clothes, carefully securing his utility belt under his overlarge hoody.
Going to the communications console, he put on a headset and then placed a call to a special, unlisted number. It was a direct line to one of the handful of people who knew the Bats' real identities. Better yet, it was a number that even Batman didn't know. The distant end was picked up on the first ring.
"Yes?" The deep, masculine voice spoke in its familiar, melodious tones.
"Alpha-Omega Protocol."
"Understood. It's ready." The brief, clipped sentences were all the voice said before the line went dead. Dick removed the headset, and sensing a presence next to him, looked up at Alfred. He nodded in answer to the man's unspoken question. Without further words, he took the backpack that Alfred held out to him and headed toward the vehicle parking area. Donning his helmet, he climbed on his motorcycle—a Black Knight 350—and kicked it into life.
As soon as Dick took off with a resounding roar, a camouflaged door sprang open, revealing a hidden tunnel. Dick followed the tunnel for several miles, his way illuminated by automatic lights, which were triggered by photoelectric eyes as he zoomed by. The bike's powerful, halogen headlight cut through the gloom that shrouded the Gotham underground as Dick navigated the often treacherous, water-covered concrete floor with confidence.
The tunnels were part of the city's ancient subway system, built before the turn of the 20th century. They had been abandoned for the wider, more modern tunnels with better drainage that had been dug in the decades following the Second World War. On occasion the Boy Wonder passed underneath an air vent and heard the roar of the subway trains overhead. He came to a steep curve that descended for an eighth of a mile before straightening out again. This happened twice more before he approached an area that opened up and branched out into three tunnels. Without hesitation he took the left tunnel, which twisted into a series of dangerous, sharp s-curves for another couple miles.
At last after almost 30 minutes of hard riding, Dick came to the end of the tunnel. A solid wall of brick and mortar lay straight ahead with no sign of an exit. Not slowing down, Dick aimed directly for it. Pressing a hidden button on his handlebars, he smirked as the "solid wall" split down the middle and retracted into the wall on either side, leaving an opening just wide enough for a single motorcycle…
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The Lair Annex
Day 1/1745 EDT
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As Dick passed through the threshold into the deeper blackness beyond, he felt his surroundings open up just as a series of recessed lights began to turn on. He carefully slowed his motorbike and brought it to a complete stop. As the lighting brightened, vague, shadowy shapes began to take definite form. At last, the lights reached their designated luminosity, revealing an underground laboratory.
Standing in the middle of the lab, wearing his usual tweed suit over a cashmere V-neck sweater, was the head of WayneTech Research and Development, Lucius Fox. Fox smiled in greeting as Dick hurriedly removed his helmet and headed toward him. Wordlessly, Fox waved him toward a lab table along the wall. He flicked a switch on a machine that was set up to the side, and immediately, the components on the table were projected onto the facing wall. The items were also magnified ten fold, making it easier for Fox to go over the smaller pieces in detail…
"…and this is the key," Fox said, wrapping it up, "the nth element, which is the main component that powers the Zeta-beam. It's a very rare substance under the direct control of the Justice League." He turned a raised eyebrow at the boy before him. "And just how did you happen to get your hands on it? I know for a fact that Batman keeps this in a special vault on the Watchtower. It's all inventoried and accounted for on a regular basis."
Dick shrugged. "It's not my fault that the Watchtower codes are so similar to the Cave's or that certain members of the League are less than…let's say…vigilant when they're on monitor duty and don't bother to check the vault for any discrepancies."
"I don't suppose this Leaguer wears green and carries a bow and quiver?" Fox guessed.
"Halloween night. I sneaked onboard the Watchtower while Batman was chasing R'as al Ghul in the Middle East. I knew GA was on duty 'cause Artemis told me just before she and Zee took off for some kind of girls' night out or something. The others were going to a costume party at their school. They invited me, but…" Dick shrugged. "I see enough real costumed crazies. I don't need to hang out with a bunch of kids who think it's fun to dress up as the Joker." Dick smiled up at Fox, amused by the memory.
"You remember that when Batman tasked me to set up a bolt hole, he gave me specific instructions to make that he wouldn't be able to find out anything about it. Well, it's really hard to set up something as elaborate as the Lair when the guy I need to hide it from is the very guy who's paying for the whole thing." He gave Fox an amused glance and shrugged.
"I figured that with him off who knows where chasing Talia—" He coughed and cleared his throat in feigned embarrassment to Fox's amusement. "—I mean, Ra's al Ghul, and with GA on monitor duty, I wouldn't have a better shot at getting onboard the Watchtower. So, I hacked the Zeta transporter platform controls and had it recognize me as Red Tornado. I knew he was in temporary stasis back on the Mountain. I've also known for sometime now that GA likes to take naps while on duty—when he thinks that Batman won't catch him. And, I when got there, sure enough, he was logging in some serious z's."
Fox chuckled at the mental picture.
"B and I worked on the belt design as an academic exercise. It was just an idea for a nice-to-have-piece of tech that we believed at the time was still years away from actual deployment. Anyway, since he ordered me to let my imagination run wild, when I stocked the Lair, I thought again of the belt."
"But when you hacked the Zeta transporter controls, you clearly demonstrated that you were able to sneak onto the Watchtower without a need for the nth belt," Fox pointed out.
"Yeah, but even as I was doing it, I knew that there might come a time when I needed to get onboard but using the Zeta platform could prove dangerous."
As he spoke, Dick ran his hands over the nth belt and its myriad electronics. It was a miracle of modern technological design. Even the people of Rann didn't have anything close to this, and they were the ones who had shared their Zeta technology with the Justice League. If the belt worked according to specs, then the wearer would be able to transport anywhere within range of a Zeta beam, and he wouldn't have a need for a Zeta platform at the distant end, because the nth belt acted as a miniaturized platform.
"And it works?" Dick asked, cutting to the chase. "Because where we're going, there'll be no second chances." He shuddered at the thought that he might enter the Zeta transporter and never rematerialize at the other end, his atoms scattered into infinity.
"It works, Dick. I guarantee it." Fox held the boy's intense blue eyes, wondering not for the first time at the vagaries of nature (or, perhaps nurture in this case) that had produced such a brilliant young mind and allowed Fox the privilege of watching as it developed and matured.
"Was there enough nth material for a second belt?" Dick asked hopefully.
Smiling Fox produced a second nth belt. "And before you ask, there's enough nth material for a total of four belts. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to make them. But, as this is an emergency, I'll get on it straight away." He shrugged in apology. "It will take me at least a couple days, though."
Dick scowled in disappointment. "That'll be too late." Shrugging he accepted that he couldn't change the circumstances. "It's okay. Put them together anyway, just in case. In the meantime, we have other ways to get onboard the Watchtower if needed. Still, these belts will get the initial team in." Dick nodded his thanks and shook Fox's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Fox. B isn't in any shape right to thank you himself, but I know that once we get this little problem licked, he'll want to thank you personally."
"No need for thanks, Dick. Just…be safe."
"I will, sir," Dick said, taking the two belts and stuffing them in the backpack he had brought with him. "Oh, and before I forget." He took out a small vial with a reddish liquid. "This is a sample of the antidote that Atlantis produced for us. We really need a lot more, especially if this whole thing blows up in our faces. If that happens, Commissioner Gordon will have to be brought in. We'll need his help and all the GCPD manpower that he can mobilize." The grave expression he gave Fox was one that the head of WayneTech felt should never be seen on such a young face. "Bruce and the Justice League—Earth's greatest heroes—are being controlled by Vandal Savage, Klarion, and an organization that calls itself the Light. We have no real way of knowing just how many people they have inside their cartel. We can't underestimate the danger to all of us."
"I won't let you down, Dick," Fox promised.
Nodding, Dick returned to his motorcycle and climbed on. "I'll bring Bruce home." Donning his helmet, he gave Fox a two-fingered salute and roared off.
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The Lair
Day 1/1900 EDT
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It was early evening when Robin returned to the Lair. Aqualad was standing in the middle of the motorcycle turntable, waiting for him. As soon as Dick pulled to a stop, Aqualad spoke.
"Did you meet with success?" the YJ leader asked.
Removing the helmet, Dick nodded. He took an appreciative sniff and smiled. His mouth watered at the delicious aroma of Italian cooking. "Smells like dinner," he observed.
"Perhaps we should head toward the kitchen," Aqualad suggested, "lest Wally eat everything in sight."
Dick laughed out loud at the Atlantean's small joke. It was not often that the serious team leader attempted any type of humorous comment, so he appreciated the effort. Smiling in agreement, the two teens walked toward the kitchen together.
"Master Richard," Alfred called looking up from where he had just placed two heaping plates on the table. Dick saw that the plates were filled to the brim with a large helping of spinach lasagna. A slice of garlic bread and wild greens salad were served on the side. Dick caught Kaldur'ahn's eye and indicated Wally's place setting with his chin.
The teen speedster had three overflowing plates before him, plus a basket of garlic bread and a supersized salad bowl. As Dick and Kaldur'ahn watched, Artemis groaned in disgust. "Yuck, Baywatch! At least chew with your mouth closed! We're all trying to eat here!"
Wally paused in the midst of shoveling another round of multiple forkfuls of lasagna and salad into his never completely closed mouth and gave her a blank look. "Whu—?" He mumbled, spewing a few not-quite chewed pieces of food. Artemis ducked, screeching in outrage.
She reached for her table knife and was about to throw it at the clueless speedster, but Dick quickly grabbed her wrist and prevented her from following through on her intentions. When she struggled against his holding her back, Dick applied a little bit pressure in just the right place, which forced her to drop the knife.
"Hey! What's the idea?" she demanded.
"House rule," Alfred intoned drolly. "One never throws a weapon while seated at the table." He turned toward Wally, giving him a pointed look. "Also, one never speaks with one's mouth full." Winking slightly at Dick, he then glared at the rest. "The family silver and tableware are not to be used as either offensive or defensive weapons, except in the case that one is under attack during the meal." The oven dinged, indicating that something else was ready to be removed. "If you ladies and gentlemen will excuse me." With that Alfred turned back to his kitchen duties.
"You have a house rule against fighting at the table?" Raquel asked. "What kind of dinners do you usually hold?"
"Are you kidding?" Wally asked, thankfully with his mouth no longer bulging with food. "Do you remember who you're talking to?" He took a sip of his milk. "Uncle Barry and I attended a formal dinner at Wayne Manor one year. It was some kind of honors thing for police officers, and Uncle B had been cited by the FBI for breaking a serial murder case that year."
"I remember," Dick said. "Commissioner Gordon was really impressed with your uncle. Said that Barry is probably the best forensics scientist in the country."
"Yeah, and besides breaking the serial murder case through the forensics evidence, Uncle Barry was also instrumental in catching him."
"So…you were at the dinner?" Zatanna prompted.
"Oh, yeah. The dinner and keynote speaker had already ended, and the guests had moved to the ballroom," Dick began.
"Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris were dancing and having a really nice time," Wally added.
"When, of course, the Penguin decided to show up," Dick finished with a shake of his head. "You'd think he'd learn. The last time he tried holding up one of Bruce's parties, the manor's security forces knocked out his goons with a minimum amount of fuss." He shrugged at the others' strange looks. "Not every little problem in Gotham City requires Batman and Robin."
"Ain't that truth," Wally said with a grin. "So…Penguin appears and says something that sounds like, 'Wahk, wahk, wahk…everybody turn over your valuables,' or, you know, a really bad villain line like that."
"Bruce and I just kind of looked at each other and rolled our eyes. I mean…seriously? He intends to rob a ballroom filled with cops?" Dick grinned in amusement at the memory. "We didn't even have to do anything. Before Penguin knew what hit him, Gordon's men had him and his henchmen in handcuffs and were slamming the paddy wagon doors in their faces. As they drove off, I heard him yelling, 'Wahk, wahk…wahk happened?'"
The others laughed in appreciation. It was nice to forget the current dire circumstances even if for just a few minutes. A moment later, the young heroes' faces grew pensive, and without further word, they returned to their meal. Evading their mentors' attack and having to hide for any period of time from the most important people in their lives was already taking a toll. A few minutes later, Alfred managed to draw a few reluctant smiles when he presented them with a beautiful Napolean pastry.
The Italian dessert had three layers of puff pastry, alternated with pastry cream. It was topped off with a glazed white icing and chocolate stripes. For those with large appetites, there was also vanilla ice cream. The girls groaned and shook their heads in protest; while, the boys eagerly nodded their heads at the additional treat.
After dinner all the teens insisted on cleaning up over Alfred's protests. Before the elderly butler could argue, he found himself seated on one of the more comfortable chairs, his feet elevated. On a side table immediately next to him, a tray with all the necessary makings for tea was laid out for him: a teapot filled with hot water; a selection of teabags; a delicate teacup and saucer; milk and sugar. The young people even brought him a pillow and blanket to help him relax.
With a speedster, a magician, and a telepath on the team—not to mention an Atlantean who could make water dance to his commands—the kitchen was sparkling within a few minutes. Dick inspected everything to insure their efforts met with Alfred's exacting standards, while Artemis and Raquel put away the leftovers. (Rocket even placed a protective positron field around the refrigerator to prevent Kid Flash from finishing off the leftovers while no one was watching.) Their teamwork proved the old adage, "Many hands make light work."
At 9:00 p.m., Aqualad called the team together for a strategy session. Nodding at Robin, the team's tactician and strategist, Aqualad stood to the side. Robin and Aqualad had already discussed the plan and gone over some initial scenarios. The entire idea was risky, but they both agreed the danger was necessary. They were dealing with their mentors and the Injustice League. Playing it safe or doing nothing was not an option…
End of Part 4
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Author's Note: Lucius Fox in comics canon is not privy to the Wayne family secret (although, like Commissioner Gordon, many believe that he suspects); however, I am following the movie and cartoon canon (The Batman: S4E12, "The Joining") where he is not only part of the inner circle, but also the creative mind behind the majority of the Bat toys. The motorcycle—the Black Knight—is mentioned in Batman: Forever.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to DC, Time Warner, and CN; this is an original story that doesn't intend to infringe on their copyright. Feedback is welcome.
Copyright: December 2012