DISCLAIMER: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: KIDNAPPED
Superman stood over the still unconscious villains and watched the Other with barely concealed curiosity. The boy that looked so much like their Robin, thanks to the Manhunter's flawless illusion, walked over to the computers and slipped a drive into one of the USB ports. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard and nodded a moment later.
"What are you doing?" Batman asked from where he stood, having remained behind to deal with Gordon when the police commissioner arrived. The other protégés had been ordered out of the Alley to help where they could. The League members were also ordered away for the time being. J'onn has remained behind, invisible and hidden, waiting for when he and Bruce would make the switch
"Evidence." Jason answered as he retrieved the drive and hid it beneath his belt again.
"You're planting evidence?" Superman arched an eyebrow in disapproval.
Unfazed, the older Robin met Superman's accusing stare. "It's all real. It's what my Batman gathered over a period of four years. That's how long it took to catch those responsible for all this, and even then a lot of them went to ground before they were caught. What I just uploaded will speed up the process and should see them all hangin' before the end of the year."
There was no disguising the predatory gleam in Batman's eyes. Superman couldn't say he felt any different. "But using too much information from the future could alter the time stream too much."
Jason snorted.
So did Batman, surprising them both. "He's already altered it, Superman. Robin's alive and the portal's closed. Good or bad, he's here until we can find his time – his reality again."
"I was never goin' back." Jason shrugged at their stunned looks and motioned to the case of money. "It's why that came with me, a partin' gift from my Batman ya could say."
"I – your Batman – let you do this?" Bruce gaped.
The other robin shook his head as the sound of helicopters approached. "Ya talk like I was given a choice." He leveled a harsh glare at the dark knight. "My Batman – YOU - trained me for this and only this. Nothing mattered but stopping Sportsmaster from killing your precious Dickie-bird."
There was no answering the animosity in the voice, nor was there the time. The helicopters had landed outside the warehouse and Superman went out to meet the GCPD Commissioner. The not-so-dynamic duo stared at each other a moment longer before moving to their agreed on positions. Batman with the captive bad guys, Robin sitting nearby appearing the relieved rescued hostage.
That was the site that welcomed Jim Gordon as he walked in beside the Man of Steel, a handful of Gotham's finest moving about to secure the area. When Jim had received Batman's call he had been floored to learn the quake that had decimated Gotham and the surrounding area had been man-made. Even so, the construct that occupied most of the room was not what he expected; more like something out of a bad science fiction movie.
Gordon nodded toward the – thing built in the center of the room. "This caused the quake?"
"Yes," Batman confirmed. "Sportsmaster and Guardian attempted to open an unstable wormhole."
Jim glanced over his shoulder at Robin, whose appearance and condition brought out the father in him. "And Robin?"
Batman growled but didn't immediately respond.
Superman walked over to Robin's side and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Robin was taken hostage several days ago." The hero of Metropolis answered. "His abduction kept the League at bay while Guardian and Sportsmaster went about collecting the needed components to open the portal."
"You okay kid?" the commissioner asked with sincerity.
Jason hid his surprise at the older man's concern but nodded. "Yeah, nothing a few days rest won't cure. Have you found him?"
"Found who?" Jim asked the trio.
"The Grayson boy," Batman said lowly, a hint of… something Jim couldn't identify lacing his voice. "Robin says they were held captive together for a time."
"Sportsmaster was killing two birds with one stone, so to speak," Robin's trademark smirk wavered and fell. "He grabbed Dick the day after they caught me. Guardian wasn't happy, but Sportsmaster said the kid served two purposes. The ransom money – which was all Sportsmaster cared about – and a way to keep me in line. He convinced Guardian that I wouldn't misbehave if they had someone as important as Bruce Wayne's son as leverage."
"Do you know where you were held?" Gordon asked, his eagerness to find his friend's son apparent in the question.
Robin shook his head. "Whenever I was taken in or out I was blindfolded. I never knew where we were, except that it's somewhere in Gotham."
Jim turned to the blue and red clad hero. "Superman, could you-"
Superman shook his head. "When they assaulted a lab in Metropolis they had Robin with them. I found him then, but they were ready for me. They had welded Kryptonite made cuffs-" Robin held his wrists, showing off the illusionary burns and marks left behind "- and placed a trap for me. It nearly killed me and would have if other League members hadn't gotten to me in time. By then they, and Robin, were gone. I'm still not at full power."
"You're saying they've most likely got something similar imprisoning Richard?" Jim was more than a little stunned when Superman nodded.
"They were expecting Superman and the League to come looking for me," Robin told the man. "It was a chance that Superman would find us together and they took that extra precaution. They welded them to the both of us."
Jim swore.
"We can interrogate Sportsmaster and Guardian when they regain consciousness," Batman told them. "They'll tell us where the boy is."
The commissioner eyed the still unmoving pair. "What happened to them?"
"They resisted arrest." Batman answered evenly.
Gordon opened his mouth to reply when his radio squawked and the dispatch office called for his attention. "Gordon here."
"Sir, you wanted to know immediately if we got any information. Officer's Burlow and Blake out of the 28th precinct report a two-zero-seven* and two-seventeen**; requesting an immediate Air-Evac. They say it's Bruce Wayne's son."
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Despite being the one to insist on this course of action, Dick was quickly coming to regret not staying at the warehouse until Batman and the others arrived. It was so close to being all over! But in those moments after the other Robin had freed him from the machine he realized there was no hiding his injuries.
Days of starvation and dehydration would see him in the hospital, where the melded shackles – that would require surgery to remove – would be leaked to the media. From there, it would only be a matter of time before the creepy-light-guys figured out who was behind the mask of Robin. After all, how many teenagers were cuffed with specifically designed Kryptonite made manacles? It was the smoking gun that would lead them right to the doorstep of Wayne Manor, and to Bruce.
Not if Dick could help it.
The other Robin had practically carried him the quarter mile from the warehouse; all the while they talked and planned. Dick liked the older teen; his street-wise way of looking at the situation helped them figure out how they were going to work this. The Other – Jason, Dick was told – has been able to find a building for their needs: a retail shop that had been closed and abandoned for years.
The three story building had been literally sheered in half when a sinkhole had opened up nearby. The hole had to be at least a hundred yards in diameter and thirty feet deep – at least thirty feet to the top of the debris inside the hole. The buildings hadn't stood a chance and the resulting pit was filled with tons of concrete, asphalt, brick and glass. Neither Jason nor Dick wanted to think of the bodies buried inside that mess.
It took some maneuvering, and Jason using his grapple line to get them down, but less than fifteen minutes after leaving the warehouse Dick has been set on the remaining floor of the shop's basement.
"Problem, Dick," Jason said quietly after a brief glance around. "You're in uniform, and I've got nothing' else for ya' to wear."
"How long until your other self shows up?"
"I'd say another twenty minutes, give or take. I didn't get the guts to crawl out of my hidey hole for probably a half hour after the quake. It's not far and this is the quickest route to the place I was living'." Jason looked out across the sinkhole, finding a spot on a jutting piece of asphalt about quarter-way around the circumference of the expanse. "I came out of that alley there. I remember seeing this and just standing there in shock until Office Blake found me."
"You better take the uniform with you." Dick started to pull at his tunic. "I can tell them my kidnappers stripped me down after I tried to escape once."
Jason shook his head and knelt beside the younger hero. "Gonna catch pneumonia," he grumbled but helped Dick remove the remnants of his uniform. "Are ya sure about this, Dickie-bird?"
"Don't really have a choice," he groaned as the chilled air contacted his now exposed chest. Bruises and lesions colored his torso, some that could be explained away with the quake, but most were undoubtedly caused by an angry hand. He refused to think about what his throat looked like, especially when the tips of Jason's fingers brushed against his Adam's apple. He pushed the gloved hand away. "It looks worse than it is."
"Doubt that," Jason's snort was filled with disbelief. "The uniform hid them before, but those are some nasty bruises. I should just take ya over to a hospital, let Robin be the one to bring in the billionaire's son. That should protect ya and Bruce's identities well enough."
With a shake of his head, Dick slipped the compress bandages from his thighs so he could remove his Kevlar tights. "For the rest of the world, yeah, but the guys behind all of this know that Robin was in that warehouse; can't be the hero when you're the linchpin holding the portal open. No, there're too many holes in any story we could come up with that they could use to find out who I am, leading them straight to Bruce."
"I think ya give them too much credit, Dick."
Leveling a hard glare at the other Robin, Dick's mouth curled into a very familiar snarl; yes, this Robin was definitely the Batman's son. "These bastards nearly tore this world apart for the miniscule possibility they'd be able to manipulate the world's heroes into what they thought they should be. They may be insane, but they're brilliant. They'd figure it out."
"Okay, okay, we do it your way."
Once the teen was in nothing but his underwear, Jason helped him shift so his back was pressed up against one of the few remaining support beams. It was tilting toward the sink hole, but it was probably the securest of the lot. The other hesitated a moment, but didn't say a word when Dick stiffly positioned his arms behind him and around the post. Having retained one of the padlocks from the warehouse, Jason snapped the industrial grade lock into place.
It was then he noticed the blood still seeping through the wounds on Dick's legs. "Screw it! I can't do this, Dick! I leave ya here, and ya could bleed to death!"
Dick jerked away as much as he could when Jason moved to pick the lock open. "I'm fine. There's a clinic not far from here. Any one from the Alley knows if you're hurt-"
"Ya go to Doc Leslie." Jason sighed. He didn't like it, but he'd go along with it for now. "I grew up here, I remember."
"Then you know I'll be fine."
A length of chain was been wrapped and locked around his legs, and a course fabric gag was secured between his lips. The cloth aggravated his cracked and blood caked lips, but with a final nod to his counterpart, Dick had been left alone.
That had been more than forty minutes ago. Jason's timing was off, but not entirely unexpected given the changes to the time-line already. The memories of what Dick had seen when trapped at the epicenter of the portal were fading, but he remembered enough. He pushed those images aside and concentrated on staying conscious. He may have convinced Jason that he'd be fine, but he could still sense his body shutting down. He didn't doubt that if he lost his fight to stay awake, the darkness wouldn't let him go.
He kept glancing up at the spot Jason had pointed out, willing for the boy to show up. When it neared then passed an hour, Dick began to worry. When another ten minutes has passed, he closed his eyes and let his chin fall to his chest. That was when he heard it.
"Holy shit!" The exclamation made from a small voice sent a wave of relief through Dick and he lifted his heavy eyes to the boy standing on the edge of the sinkhole. Green eyes were wide with horror and the boy clutched his right arm protectively against his chest. Even at this distance, Dick recognized a compound fracture; the bloody bone protruding from the arm unmistakable.
Dick continued to stare at the youth, urging him silently to look over his way and see him. It took a few more minutes before those terrified green orbs finally fell onto him. The expletive Young Jason used this time was not something a nine-year old boy should know.
The boy looked around his immediate area before glancing down over the ledge of asphalt. Realizing what he was thinking, Dick's heart all but stopped. He shook his head fiercely and tried shouting around the gag. It was enough that kid looked at him and took a step back from the ledge. Dick relaxed and let his head rest back against the support.
"Hold on, I'll be back with help!"
Nodding to let him know he'd heard him, Dick watched as the tawny-haired kid ran back into the alley. A few minutes later he could hear someone arguing with the Young Jason about getting the broken arm treated.
Jason was the first to the edge and jabbed his good arm to where Dick was. He turned and glared at the two uniformed officers that had followed him. "There!"
Dick then heard where the boy had learned his choice in profanity.
Suddenly there was a flurry of activity around the sinkhole. More cops showed up and even locals were helping out; Dick's heart ached when he saw Leslie Thompkins show up. His family was so close…
When she recognized him and told his would-be saviors, the determination to get to him seemed to intensify. He was, after all, Gotham royalty: The Prince of Gotham's Son!
It was soon discovered that the only way to his position was across the sinkhole and, with a rope tied around their waists, the two cops first on the scene were climbing down one side of the pit and across the debris.
Time seemed to blur together, with a lot of shouting and pain and – god, he was just so tired. Several times he felt himself give in to the weariness and his body go slack until the shouts from the crowd drew him back. The noise helped keep him focused somewhat and he was able to keep conscious.
Bloodied fingers appeared on the edge of the sinkhole not far from him, and a moment later the dirtied uniform of Office Blake followed. The young man lifted himself into the basement and wasted no time hurrying over to Dick's shivering body.
Blake cursed several colorful phrases as he took in the boy's appearance. The bruises, the injuries, the burns, and the padlock keeping him confined. "Damn. Eddie!" He turned to his partner who was securing one of the ropes to another support, allowing them a means to get what equipment they needed across without having to climb. "We're going to need bolt cutters."
"Roger that!" was the response and the older man started shouting orders to the officers on the other edge.
Dick became aware of cool but gentle fingers working at the knots of fabric, and a moment later the gag was carefully pried from between Dick's lips. "Thanks."
The officer cringed at the hoarseness of Dick's voice and quickly looked him over. Realizing he wouldn't be able to free him just yet, he shrugged off his jacket and used it to cover the mostly naked teen before pressing his palms against the still bleeding wounds on his legs. "It's Richard, right?"
"Dick," he mumbled as he felt his body quickly giving in to the exhaustion he was fighting.
"Dick," the cop's voice was fading, "just a little longer, okay? We'll have you out of here as soon as we can."
He wanted to answer, he really did, but he was finished. He'd been 'rescued'. The days of hell were finally over.
Dick Grayson let the darkness take him.
According to Wikipedia, and the California Penal Code (which will work for Jersey since I can't find anything else):
* - two-zero-seven (207): police code for kidnapping
** - two-seventeen (217): police code for assault with intent to murder