YJ - A Shot in the Dark (part 9)

"What happened?" Superboy demanded without any preamble. M'gann and Kaldur were only a pace or two behind him, both looking equally peeved as they followed Conner to the street corner.

Dick glanced down at his watch. "Well," he mumbled. "You got here fast."

"Deathstroke got her," Flash summed up from where he leaned on a brick wall, nearly vibrating with the effort to stay put.

"How?" Conner asked, his eyes flashing as he looked from Dick to Flash and back. "She was hidden. Most of the League didn't know where she was! How the hell did he find her?!"

"Conner, calm down," Dick tried.

"She's our sister too," M'gann interceded. "We want her back just as much as you do."

"She probably won't be rejoining the team," he pointed out.

"Not the point," Conner growled.

"There is an advantage to larger numbers, my friend," Kaldur reminded him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"And you really don't have a choice right now," a gruff voice informed him, turning all attention to the shadows where Batman emerged with Green Arrow, whom the younger heroes had never seen look so volatile.

"Here's the deal," Arrow said, his knuckles white around his bow. "We find her, get her out, and I'll clean up the mess."

Several eyebrows shot up, only Flash seemed to agree-and he looked like he was perfectly fine with any and all very "non-hero" plans that the archer could have in mind. Batman, though, shot the blonde hero a glare.

"I'll be helping him," he informed the younger heroes, which was something of a relief. Albeit a very, very small one. "What do we know?"

"She was injured on the Chapel Street bridge," Flash reported, cutting in even as Dick had opened his mouth to reply. His tone was flat and serious, and far from the jovial tone everyone expected from speedsters. "The middle of the bridges connecting Keystone to Central across the river. We were able to track her this far, to the northern side of Central City, both physically and from the tracer in her vest."

"What's north?" Arrow asked, his tone easily matching the younger man's.

"Corporate," Flash answered easily. "Most of it's brand new since the Reach invasion and that kid who couldn't control his powers. What'd Impulse call him? Neutron?"

"So the area was essentially decimated," Batman surmised with a nod.

"Could there still be pieces of old buildings there?" M'gann asked. "Someplace Deathstroke could access?"

Dick shook his head. "Nothing was really worth saving, judging by the town specs," he told them activating his holographic screen again. "But there is this."

Instantly Green Arrow and the Flash were leaning closer to see over his shoulder. "DS Media," Flash read aloud, frowning at the company name. "Supposedly a new recording studio gone on a grand scale."

"Yeah, to the point that there's a dozen of them across the country," Dick pointed out. "Owned and operated by one S. L. Wilson. He must have set them up in case she slipped."

"By being a record executive?" M'gann asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a good set up," Batman commented. "Most people will willingly offer up information to people in the entertainment industry."

"So he set up studios at random just in case she was dumb enough to go into music?" Arrow countered, folding his arms. "I don't buy it."

"It's not random," Conner cut in. All attention turned to the clone, waiting for him to continue. He pointed to the projected screen, scowling. "Each of those are base locations of at least one justice league or young justice member."

The cold of the winter night hadn't been noticeable before, but now it seemed to bite at each hero's core as they realized the truth.

"He hadn't been watching her," Arrow breathed.

"He was watching us," Dick agreed, tensing with the effort to not curse at himself.

"Waiting for one of us to do the work for him," Batman finished, looking even more agitated than usual.

The thought might as well have been a punch from Superman for all the force it had. M'gann had clasped her hands in front of her face. Aqualad looked devastated. Dick was still glaring at his wrist, but he'd lost most of the color in his face. So had Green Arrow.

"It's my fault."

Six sets of eyes fell on the speedster, all wide in surprise and mild confusion at the soft admission, but Flash was glaring at the screen on his friend's wrist. A moment passed before he brought his blank gaze upward to meet Dick's concern.

"Just like me, isn't it?" he said. "Realizing why a plan was in place only after I mess it up? You were right, I shouldn't have figured it out."

"Flash-."

The gathered heroes recoiled from the cloud of snow buffeted them in his wake. Dick shouted after the speedster with little hope of the sound ever reaching his friend. But even as Batman took over as point, giving directions and commands to those who remained, Dick could swear that he heard a lingering promise on the wind.

"I won't let her die because of me. Not again."

.- . -.

It had taken every ounce of control Wally had to keep from vibrating through the wall while he and Nightwing waited for the others to show. By that point he was thinking up scenarios for Deathstroke that would definitely get him kicked out of the the Justice League. So when Green Arrow had implied the same intentions, Wally was all for it.

Figuring out that he was the reason Artemis's disguise had slipped, that had been like a shot to the chest. And he'd responded the only way he knew how. He ran.

Blitzing fast enough that the snowflakes felt like tiny versions of hail, he tore through the north end of Central City, subconsciously working in a spiral towards it's center. His heart dropped a little as he was greeted by building after building of vacant corporations and no sign of Artemis. Until he was standing at the one building he was praying she wasn't in.

"Flash!"

The shout was followed by Nightwing landing softly next to him in the snow and then Batman. The others had finally caught up.

"No other signs of life anywhere in the north end," Wally reported for lack of anything better to say.

"We're sure this is Slade's place?" Green Arrow asked, approaching from the right.

"Yeah," Nightwing said tightly as he pulled up the holographic projection of blue prints. "Seven entrances. Three in front, one on each other side, and a underground garage. One night guard in the center of the first floor. Top of the line tech security, though. According to time logs, the front doors have been locked since seven fifteen. Garage has a gate that was accessed... around eleven-fifteen."

"And that's our boy," Green Arrow announced, extending his bow.

Superboy nodded in agreement. "Let's go kick his-."

"We can not be sure that it was he who accessed the entry point," Aqualad pointed out. "And if it were him, we do not know if Artemis was indeed with him."

Instantly three sets of livid eyes fell on the Atlantean. M'gann quickly placed herself between the two forces with a frown.

"There's one way to find out," Batman announced gruffly from Nightwing's side.

Wally's attention snapped back to his best friend, instantly taking up the spot by his shoulder. "You hacked the video feeds."

"Of course," Nightwing snorted, his infallible humor going far to lift Wally's spirits.

But the unconscious smile didn't stay on Wally's face for long as the projection showed a nondescript black sedan pausing for entry to the garage. Nightwing followed the car from camera to camera until it came to a stop, pulling into a parking space that might have been three floors down.

The car door opened, but then static cut across the screen-interrupting the feed with a new one. Everything was the same, except for the most obvious show of a time cut. Close up in the foreground, Slade Wilson smiling directly back at them.

"Hello Nightwing."

Wally glanced at his friend when the younger man tensed. There was a history here, one that Wally had only heard bits and pieces of, but if Deathstroke knew which shots to call that was definitely not a good thing.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" the assassin continued. "But I'm afraid I still don't have time to catch up. You see, I have business with a certain... friend of yours. I'd tell you not to interfere, but since those hotheads you associate with are around I know it's a moot point. So I'll make you a deal. If you can find me, I'll give you her body. Maybe even give her and Flash one last tragic love scene if you're... quick enough. Tick-tock, Nightwing."

With that the feed cut again, showing the parking garage in current time. The car and Deathstroke were gone.

"Batgirl," Nightwing's tense voice seemed to break through the shock as abruptly as though it had been one of Zatanna's spells. M'gann made a strangled sound of distress as Superboy let out a threatening growl.

"On it," Batgirl responded in their ears.

"What the hell was that?!" Green Arrow demanded.

"How did he know we were watching?" Aqualad asked.

"He's not here," Nightwing stated blankly, staring at Batgirl's technical readouts scrolling across the screen. "We must have tripped a sensor that overrode our signal."

"Does it say where it came from?" Batman asked.

"West of here," the man's protégé answered. "Next to the river."

"What's over there?" Batman demanded, whirling to face Wally.

"Trains," he replied. "Docks. Cargo transport. The docks close by eight in winter, trains stop at ten-thirty."

"Split up," Batman instructed. "Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Superboy to the docks. Flash, Arrow, Nightwing-the trains."

"Where are you going?" Green Arrow snapped.

"To work from another angle," Batman responded and with that he pulled out his grappling hook and swung off into the night.

A moment passed, which might as well have been an age to Wally. Then he moved forward. "Right," he said, running a hand over his cowl. "Let's move."

"Take Brighton," Nightwing informed them, pointing to the left. "At the end, go south."

Their old teammates nodded and sprinted away. In return, Green Arrow started forward, too, stepping past the younger man in red.

"Wally," Nightwing said in a low tone, taking hold of the speedster's arm.

He stopped willingly, but the younger man could feel him shaking. "What if we're too late?"

The dark haired hero stared, taken back a little as he realized how scared his best friend really was. "Walls-."

He looked over at him and Dick could swear that he could almost see the green orbs staring at him beneath the protective lenses. "Dick, she's in the hands of a psychopath," Wally said. "One who knows how we work. I don't want to live without her anymore. Those years without her were hell. I can't do it again. And I can't let him..."

Nightwing's grip tightened briefly on his arm as the younger hero gave him an encouraging smile. "We won't let that happen and neither will she. She's a fighter and you give her as much reason to stay alive as she gave you."

Wally stared at him for a second before smiling back sheepishly, embarrassed that he hadn't remembered to put faith into the woman he loved. That she would kill him for not doing so. And suddenly there was a strange feeling of renewed hope that he hadn't felt in far too long of a time. "Thanks, Dick."

Grinning, Nightwing gave him a light punch. "Anytime," he returned with a nod, then held out a hand. "So... how 'bout a lift?"

.- . -.

She was cold when she woke up. Freezing actually, but nothing compared to the pain that spanned the length of her arm when she tried to move. She had to take a few breaths to fight it back, her eyes closed as she made her mind turn it into a dull ache. Never in her life had she been so thankful for her horrific upbringing.

Focus, little girl, Sportsmaster's voice returned to her mind through the fog of pain and whatever drug Deathstroke had used on her. Pain means you're alive, ignore it. You don't think about the pain if there's a ticking time bomb next to you.

For a second her heart trip-hammered, the idea of a bomb making her tense up instantly. But then, of all people, a certain Robin's voice overrode her mind.

C'mon, blondie, he teased with just enough of a sneer to irritate her, Are you gonna tell me that just because you're drugged you can't use your brain? What's the boss always saying? Use your surroundings?

Then Batman himself cut in, Know your opponent.

She nodded unconsciously, taking one more breath before opening her eyes. She was in an armless chair, her arms tied-no. Taped. Her wrists were taped behind her back and her ankles were attached to a securing bar that connected the chair's legs. The cut on her leg seemed to have cottoned enough that it wasn't bleeding into her jeans anymore. On that note, her jacket was still on, so were the rest of her clothes.

"Thank God," she breathed, though her words were a little slurred.

It took a moment to raise her head, the drug created a ridiculously strong headache and it made the images swim a little as she tried to take in her surroundings. Which puzzled her. She wasn't fully sure it was a room. It had a ceiling and floor and walls, but... something was off. The door looked a little like a barn door, but a barn would never be this small. And it had something to do with that rhythmic drumming that was starting to break through the fog of her mind.

Worst of all, though, was the fact that she seemed to be in the middle of an absolutely empty space. Being stuck in the center of a room, she could handle. The three years of Dick's brother randomly abducting his teammates just to see how they'd react had made her a near expert on getting across a room while strapped to one of these. But here? Here there was nothing she could pull down or rub against or break to do anything useful.

Alright, this sucks, she thought bitterly. But as her memories of the night came back to her, another thought surfaced. Why am I alive?

It wasn't that she unhappy about it, since it seemed to be the only up side of any pain she felt, but still. It was Deatstroke and she knew for a fact that he doesn't take pity or make it longer than it needs to be. So for all intents and purposes she should be dead, not waking up again to the strange comfort of pain.

Unless that's what he's getting paid for.

The thought made her stomach churn and it felt like her head was spinning as she fought down the bile. If he was getting paid for torture, Artemis knew that Deathstroke would make it worth the price. She'd die a hundred times over before he'd be done.

Get traught!

She laughed as her mind brought up the memory of Dick's thirteen year old command from one of her earliest missions with the team. It was butchery of the English language, but she'd have to admit it had helped her a number of times in the past.

Just like it was now.

Bringing Dick's voice also brought her back through her list of assets to hone in on one thing: the vest. Deathstroke had actually left her with her best chance of escape. Simply by letting her wear this, he might as well have left her with a pair of scissors.

Maybe he was slacking. Maybe he forgot who she used to be, who she'd learned from.

Or maybe he was testing her.

The thought that maybe he'd left her with an escape route on purpose was definitely a little disconcerting. But, at some point, it didn't matter. All Artemis knew was that time wasn't on her side and if she didn't get out of there soon, she was a dead woman. The how didn't matter.

Despite the pain in her arm, she was very happy to know that her fingers still worked and she put them to work as soon as they brushed the hem of her vest. It took some doing and she was fairly sure her fingertips were bleeding, but she managed to pry free one of her hidden daggers.

She would've given anything for a serrated edge, but smooth would have to do and she tried to ignore the many times the blade slipped on the thick layers of duck tape to nick her arm. Under different circumstances, and perhaps if she didn't have a background with this sort of thing, she probably would've thought she did fairly well when she was able to pull her arms apart five minutes later. But all she could do was be-groan time wasted.

Getting her legs free was easier. Though, it also took longer than it should have, for one simple reason: the chair had lurched. Making Artemis suddenly aware that she wasn't actually in a room. She was in a train car, being transported to who knew where.

Maybe that was why she'd been left there so simply. Slade hadn't planned on her waking from the sedative so easily. But then again, she doubted much of anyone knew she'd been taking sleeping pills on and off over the past few years to fend of nightmares. Immunity was sometimes a wonderful thing.

Once she was free, Artemis tucked the blade back into her vest, silently sending "thank you"s to her honorary brother. But being out of bonds and being able to move proved to be two entirely different challenges. Putting weight on her legs made them shake and initially give from under her, dropping her right back into the chair.

Artemis let her breath out in an agitated huff and tried again. If she could get out of here, like hell she wouldn't put her all into it. Though she was still wobbly, and fairly sure that her right leg was entirely asleep, she managed to cross the car. The large door along the side of the train car was locked, no surprise, and getting to the roof access was entirely out of the question.

Shuddering, she tried to wrap her arms around herself for extra warmth. But a passing railway light made her pause. The walls of this car... they're wooden.

In fact, now that she was looking more closely at it all, it was actually really poorly constructed. There were gaps between the rough wooden panels that let in the harsh winter winds as the train rolled along and, not that she knew all that much about wood, some of the planks definitely looked like they were on their last leg.

Ramming her shoulder into them wouldn't work, namely because then she really wouldn't have any function left. But once again the dark knight's eldest son came to mind and Artemis quickly felt the hidden pockets of her vest for his old explosive discs. She just hoped that she could remember how to activate the timer correctly.

As each second passed, it felt like her heart would pick up a pace or two. By the time she'd wedged three of the five discs into gap along a particularly awful looking plank of wood, the adrenalin was easily helping her forget the pain she was in. She stood back and, crossing the car's floor but not going to the farthest corner in case the explosion drew attention, Artemis watched the remaining seconds tick down on her watch.

She couldn't help give a small cry as the charges blew, the force knocking her back the few steps into the wall and jarring her shoulder. But when the smoke cleared, a hole two planks wide was gaping out into the snowy evening.

Returning to the hole she'd created, Artemis knocked loose a few of the smoldering edges to make the space bigger. She was trying very hard not to focus on the scenery, but it still added questions that she couldn't really answer. How long had she been asleep? Kari, channel four's weather girl, had confirmed that once the snow started it wasn't going to stop for at least fourteen hours. Considering it had been around ten when the first flurries had started coming down, there really shouldn't have been any moon to illuminate the snow that stretched out in front of her.

She slipped as a piece of stubborn wood gave way under the pressure of her hand, which did nothing for the panic she'd been burying inside. How far away from help was she? There shouldn't be fields of snow unless she was an hour outside the city.

A sound from further down the train (though it might have just been her imagination) reminded her of priorities and got her kicking away until she was able to hang her body along the outside of the train. First she faced the front of the train, seeing several cars with nothing but the darkness of night there to greet them. So she looked back towards the following cars and could've cried with relief. They must have just hit that hour mark, she could still see the glow of the city.

"Get it together," she told herself against the howl of the bitter wind. "Get traught and get off this train!"

The only good she could see in jumping from a train going full speed away from the twin cities was that they'd already crossed the river. Maybe it wouldn't be as painful falling into snow.

"Okay," she breathed as she felt the train slow a little. A glance back towards the front revealed an upcoming bridge where the tracks crossed a road of some sort, and it made her smile. Roads meant people, people meant transportation, and the faster she got away from here the better.

"Three... Two..."

For one breathless moment, Artemis was flying. Awkward and without any promise of security, but flying none the less and, despite everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it renewed her faith in getting away.

Impact was jarring, but she'd long since learned how to fall safely-forcibly rolling once her body touched the snow until she was actually able to flip up onto her feet. The momentum took her running a few paces, but she quickly altered her direction.

Ducking under the train bridge and tucking herself into it's shadows, Artemis tried to catch her breath. It only took a moment or two for the rumbling over head to pass, though it shook plenty of grime down onto her and the road it was crossing further below. Once it had gone a little ways further down the track, she unfolded herself from the hiding place and took stock of what was around her.

The road was a small one, letting her definitely know she was in country now, with no signs that she could see to help. But it had to lead somewhere and so long as she took her first turn east she might be able to hit one of the city's suburbs. And, maybe, make it home.

A/N: Hey everybody! Thanks for the amazing support! I'm glad you're all still enjoying the story (though I haven't been able to respond individually) ^_^ The next chapter might be a longer wait, though. Just because it's birthday season over here, and I also have to go to a number of bridal things for friends. But here's hoping I get some writing time in! :D