DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Bullseye
"Superman!"
"Goddammit, SUPERMAN!"
Robin was twisting his wrists, frantically hoping that the man had weakened the cuffs even a little. He discovered quickly that there was no give in them, other than when they pulled at his skin and tore open the blisters. He wanted to scream out his frustrations, but his raw throat was barely able to vocalize already.
Don't panic…
His chest rose and fell rapidly with every desperate breath. His heart was racing and his mind was awhirl as he was resigned to accept that Superman was not going to be doing any saving. If the dart contained a kryptonite solution, Clark had maybe minutes before his organ started to shut down and he began to die – if he wasn't already.
Superman needed him!
Don't panic…
"Think Rob!" He rasped to himself. "Think! You're supposed to be a master escape artist, so bloody well suck it up and escape!"
He had wasted what strength he had left fighting against the shackles, and closed his eyes as he rode a wave of dizziness. He wavered on his knees, grateful that at least the chain noose was no longer around his neck. He could move about somewhat, though his legs were still secured to the floor, but at least he could sit back onto his heels, relaxing the tension of the chain binding his wrists to his legs.
Calmer now, he opened his heavy eyelids.
Superman lay awkwardly only a few feet away. His pallor was waxy and had a grey tinge to it. The side of his neck was a spider-web of deep green colored veins and lines, visibly spreading as the toxin from the dart worked its way through the Krytonian's system.
The dart!
Dick's masked eyes fell onto the small needle, lying on the concrete between the two heroes. No more than four inches long from tip to end, but it would be more than enough for him to pick the padlocks on the chains if he could reach it!
Gritting his teeth against the pain he knew it would cause, he twisted at the waist, allowing him to lie on his side. He pulled and kicked his legs within the loops of chains, rubbing the Kevlar leggings roughly against his skin, but eventually was able to manoeuvre so one was resting onto of the other, his waist no longer turned.
He knew he wouldn't be of reaching it with his hands, so he bent back until his head was nearly to his feet and contorted his body so he could nudge the dart with his tongue. Ignoring the little voice in his head talking about discarded needles, he gently eased it toward him until he was able to hold the feathered end between his lips.
Weary blue eyes had to close again as the vertigo overtook Robin again. The lack of food was starting to get to him and he knew he wouldn't be able to keep going much longer. Breathing slowly through his nose, he kept his eyes closed as he tensed his core muscles and shifted into a kneeling position once more.
Ignoring the way the world tilted when he opened his eyes, he turned his head as far to the side as possible, pulling against the chain to bring his hands as close to his mouth as he could. Praying to any deity that was listening, he let the dart drop from his mouth.
"Yes!" he gasped in elation when his fingers snatched the narrow dart out of the air. He refused to acknowledge the prick on the needle against the pad of his thumb, hoping that there was nothing left on the needle.
Sitting on his heels brought his fingers right next to the padlock at his ankles and looking over his shoulder he deftly twisted and poked and scraped the tip of the needle inside the locking mechanism. He was sweating, his neck and shoulders aching, when he finally felt and heard the click of the lock giving way. The needle was palmed in one hand while the other carefully pulled the padlock open and unhooked it from the chain links.
Robin wanted to cry his relief as he was able to wriggle and stretch his legs until he could slip one free from the weight of the chains. The rest fell away as he crawled away from the links. Sitting with his legs stretched out before him, easing the throbbing muscles on his thighs and calves, he wanted nothing more than to rest, but knew he didn't dare.
On shaky legs he stood, bending at the waist and pulling his still bound wrists down past his buttocks so he could step over his wrists, bringing his arms in front of him. Putting the feathered end of the dart back between his lips, he used his mouth to work the padlock securing his wrists together.
In a space of a few minutes, Robin was finally free.
Almost.
The metal cuffs on his wrists weren't coming off unless cut off.
Through the crack on the one he could see the pale glow of the kryptonite alloy beneath the lead and knew what he had to do.
"Hang on Superman," he whispered as he staggered over to the unconscious hero. Quickly, and thoroughly, Robin ran his palms over the other man's uniform, patting it down until he found the comm device sewn into the seam where the cape joined with the shoulders. Carefully using the tip of the need to tear into the fabric, he pulled the communicator out. He then slipped the earwig from the Man of Steel's ear and hurried toward the exit ramp.
He put the receiver into his ear and pressed the tiny device once. When he got nothing but static he glanced back at the still unmoving man. He had to go up, and there was no way he was going to be able to drag Clark however far he had to go. Hell, he'd be lucky if he could make it above ground himself.
Determinedly, Robin started up the ramp, trying to get a signal through the comm every level. He was three levels up when the sound of an approaching vehicle came from above him. He scurried off the ramp, stumbling to his knees as he dove behind a thick concrete support, watching from the darkness as the same van he had seen his captors leave in return.
His time had just run out.
As soon as he lost sight of the van he was running as fast as he could, which wasn't that fast given his weakened state. He stumbled several times, but it was only one more level up that he was rewarded with silence instead of static.
Bolting off the ramp onto the parking level, he made it to a center support beam when his legs gave out. Pressing his back against it, peering around enough to watch the ramp, he depressed the communicator between his fingers.
"Robin to Watchtower!" he held the device close to his mouth, hoping his raspy voice would carry.
"Robin!" Sportsmaster's voice echoed up through the ramp, reverberating in the empty structure and causing a shiver to run up the boy's spine.
He forced a cough, wincing at the sound that in the otherwise quiet parking garage, hoping to clear his throat enough to be heard. "Robin to Watchtower!"
"Enough of these games, boy," the man's voice was angry and coming further up the ramp. "If you make me come get you, it won't be only you who gets punished this time. Or did you forget about your buddy lying on the floor down here?"
"Come on, Justice League, someone answer me goddammit!"
"Robin?" Hawkman's exclamation resounded in the boy's ear, but it was a welcomed sound. "Kid, what the hell is going-"
"Shut up and listen to me," he snapped, hearing the heavy booted footsteps coming up the ramp. "Trace this signal, Superman is dying!"
There was a stunned silence, quickly followed by a hissed "What? How?"
"I know you're here, Robin." Sportsmaster was at his level.
"Just trace this god damn signal before its cut off!" Robin spat, set the transmitter on the floor right next to the beam, hoping it would go unnoticed.
Dick ran.
Sportsmaster was gaining ground quickly, catching up to him in only a few seconds. Robin was taken to the ground, hands pinned painfully above his head as the large man straddled his thighs. Holding the teen's hands in place with one palm, Sportsmaster reached for the earwig receiver in Robin's ear and crushed it easily between two fingers.
"Really now," the man glared down at his captive, "Haven't you learned anything yet?"
The free hand was drawn back into a fist and the last thing he saw before the darkness took him.
.
.
.
.
.
Exhaustion was playing havoc on already frayed nerves, and none more evident than the pinched mouth on Green Arrows face as he listened to Black Canary, an icepack being held against her head. Red Tornado had gone back to Mount Justice to forward the report on to Batman. The teens stood to the side, out of the way of the Flash while he treated the still unconscious Aqualad. The Young Justice leader's face look like it went a round with Georges St-Pierre*, and lost.
M'gann was the only Young Justice member actively doing something, and that was scanning the immediate memories of the groggy, but conscious, scientists.
When it was discovered that one of the scientists had been killed, his neck broken, it was learned from the others that he had been the one to strike the two meta-human guards. Black Canary had gone down first; a cowardly blow to the back of her head had her unconscious before she knew what happened. Aqualad had turned to the scientist, only to be struck down by Sportsmaster when the mercenary had entered the room. While Guardian had been retrieving the prototype, the traitor scientist had chloroformed his coworkers and Sportsmaster continued to beat the unconscious Atlantean.
After that they could only speculate that they had killed their compatriot to tie up loose ends before activating the robotic riffle to take pot-shots at Artemis and Red Arrow. In the end, it didn't matter, as whatever the order of events the two men had made a clean getaway.
"So what do we do now?" Kid Flash asked quietly, more subdued than either archer remembered seeing him.
Superboy was frowning, as per the norm, but there was an underlying fear in his pale blue eyes. "This was the last city the Genomorph gave Miss Martian. They should have everything they wanted, right?"
"The phony ransom drop is tomorrow night," Artemis said without a trace of optimism.
Roy shook his head. "They're not giving him back, no matter what they might have said."
Wally sighed. "So what do we do?"
"Watchtower to Green Arrow," Hawkman's voice crackled over the frequency of the receivers in their ears.
The senior-most member on sight perked up at the call and responded immediately. "What is it, Hawk?"
"I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I just got a call from Robin on Superman's comm channel!"
Everyone was alert now.
Oliver held up his hand, stopping the younger team before they could start shouting out questions. "Where is he?"
"He didn't say, but it's not good. Robin reported that Superman was dying and then the line when quiet."
"It was cut off?"
"No, it's still transmitting; it's just gone really quiet. I think I heard some kind of struggle, or fight, but it was really short and now I've got nothing but dead air."
"I'm assuming you got a trace this time, Hawkman?" The Flash was on his feet, readying himself like a sprinter. Wally mimicked his uncle.
"Damn straight I did. Transmitting coordinates now."
Both speedsters were gone before the others could even blink. It took them less than a minute to arrive at the building site and Barry grabbed his nephew by the arm to stop him from running headlong onto the scene. The two stood anxiously across the street.
"Hawk, you with us?" asked the older speedster quietly.
"You're right on top of the signal, Flash," was the response.
"Underground then," Wally jerked his chin toward construction site.
Barry glanced at the teen hesitantly. "Kid, maybe you-"
"Not a chance!" he snapped. "You are not leaving me behind!"
"They've taken down Big Blue," Flash tried again.
"And they've taken my best friend," the boy growled, poking his uncle in the chest. "I. Am. Going."
The curling of his upper lip was unavoidable. "Alright. Hawk, ETA on the others?"
"Dinah and Aqualad are out of the game," the hero manning watchtower told them. "J'onn is heading back to Metropolis now and will take them to the Hall to medical attention. The rest are heading for Miss Martian's ship now and will be there in a few minutes."
"Good," Flash clapped his protégé's shoulder and nodded. "Keep and open comm, will you?"
The two were heading down the ramp a heartbeat later, taking the few seconds to search the upper levels as they went. They slowed when they came to the lowest level, stuttering their pace when their saw their teammates lying near a van.
"Rob!" KF sped ahead of his uncle, coming to the unconscious bird. He felt the bile burning the back of his throat when he saw the condition of his friend.
"Damn," Barry knelt beside the Man of Steel, inspecting the criss-crossing green veins that had spread from the neck to the side of Clark's face and down his chest. He pressed a hand to his ear, "Hawk, you there? Hawkman?" He fingered the transmitter hidden in mask. "Flash to Watchtower? Well, that sucks."
Wally looked up at his mentor just in time to see Sportsmaster standing behind the unaware speedster. Before he could open his mouth to shout a warning, the mercenary struck. The hunting knife in his hand sliced into the meat of Barry's thigh, eliciting a scream of pain from the Flash. The blade was twisted before it was yanked free of the flesh.
Blood rapidly spurted from the limb.
Wally was moving the same time his Uncle collapsed next to Superman. He was pressing down, hard, on the wound, the blood staining his hands. "Oh god!"
"You move faster," Sportsmaster said with obvious amusement, "your heart beats faster, you bleed out faster. What do you think, boy? Are you fast enough – good enough- to save them all?"
"Do not gloat," Guardian said from inside the back of the van, its cargo doors now open. "We need to go, now."
"Fine, fine," the hired thug walked past them. He reached down, grabbed Robin by his arm and lifted him easily over his shoulder.
"No!" Wally cried out. "You don't need him!"
"Then by all means," Guardian motioned to Kid Flash's current position, "let go of the leg and stop Sportsmaster. You're fast enough, you could possible stop him. But would it be before your mentor bleeds to death?"
"Don't-"Barry gasped, reached down and pulled at KF's hands. "Don't let them take Robin again!"
Wally just pressed down harder; a hiss of pain preceding the Flash's decent into unconsciousness. The teen looked away from his mentor and watched as a smug Sportsmaster uncaringly dropped Robin into the back of the van.
"You're going to die painfully," Kid Flash snarled at the pair as he watched them turn his friend onto his stomach and secure his wrists together with a padlock behind his back. "Batman is going to hunt you both down and I am going to watch as he tears you both apart, bit by bit!"
Sportsmaster slammed the back doors of the van shut and stepped over to the teen. His hand still gripped the bloody knife, the crimson fluid dripping across the concrete and pooling where it fell. "Big Bad Daddy Bats won't do a think, so long as we've got his kid."
The flat edge of the blade was wiped across Wally's cheek, causing the boy to flinch as his face was painted with his uncle's blood. "Next time, stay home. We've neutered the Bat, brought down Superman, and the Flash isn't going to be going anywhere but the morgue. Just imagine what I can, and will, do to your little friend if you interfere again."
Seconds later, the van was gone and so was Robin.
Again.
And Wally was alone with two dying heroes.