It took five minutes and more than a few outraged tears for him to calm down. When he finally straightened, though, there was a determined furrow between his eyes. I'll go to the edge, he sniffled to himself. I've still got three missiles. If the core is strong, maybe the extremities are weak. They hadn't tried anything like ordnance yesterday, but if lidar, radar, and all that other science-y stuff wasn't the answer then explosions had to be.
Sending a final piercing glare at the small collection of debris he'd created above the silver tower, he turned the plane away. It took only a second to direct it to carefully follow the curve of the force field back to where it had touched earth the previous afternoon. When that was done he curled up in his chair and stared blindly at the screen that was still relaying a magnified view of the earth below. Stupid camera, he thought bluntly. Why can't you just scan the whole area and tell me if there's something person-shaped? Why aren't you capable of that? Father's stupid for not thinking of giving you that capability...
The video yielded nothing, and before long he was setting down in almost the exact same spot as the day before. His hands hovered over the controls, hesitating. Nothing but grass and a few distant copses of trees lay before him; if this worked and the missile got through, what was the chance that he would start a wildfire? That was something that he definitely didn't have the resources to deal with on his own, and the increased threat it would pose to the missing men was a tough factor to weigh.
...I have to risk it, he decided slowly. He might start a fire by launching missiles into the plains, but at least if he did they would be able to access the burning areas in order to stage a rescue. As things were now no such operation was possible. There was still a high chance of more earthquakes occurring, too, especially if someone inside was purposefully triggering them. He simply had to get through, and he only had three chances left in which to do it.
Or one rather large chance, he calculated. It would be safer to launch in the same way he had up above, starting with one missile and increasing to a double-shot if need be, but if he sent all three at once it might be enough power to break through. The potential of a fire was just as present with one strike as with three, so he wasn't ramping up the danger much with his scheme. Taking a deep breath, he tucked his finger in against the trigger. Work, damn you, he muttered internally. Work.
He squeezed, and a faint shiver in the fuselage told him that the command had been obeyed. For a second afterward all he could do was stare out the windshield. The triple explosion broke, then rolled upward towards the cloud-darkened sky before dying out from lack of fuel. Only on the ground, where a few clumps of grass were smoldering, was there any sign of the bombardment that had just occurred. Even if those little puffs of smoke were to grow into a mighty blaze, however, it wouldn't matter. They were on the wrong side of the utterly unmarked force field to have any effect on his brothers, and it was for that reason that he felt like he might start to cry again.
His mouth was set in a twisted line when he exited the plane and trudged forward. I don't know what else to do, he berated himself morosely as he stomped out the tiny flames that were licking along through the dirt. He was going to be in enough trouble already, and starting a forest fire outside the barrier would only piss Batman off further. What else can I do? he lamented as he worked. There's nothing. I'm useless.
Seeing no more tell-tale plumes rising nearby, he dropped to the earth and leaned against the invisible dome. I should have just stayed home. Doing as he'd been told wasn't usually his go-to response to a crisis, but in this case he could see how it would have been the smarter choice. Then he might at least have had a hand in the eventual rescue. Now, though, he was certain to be forced to wait until the duo had been transported to either the Watchtower or the cave in order to see them, and none of the credit for their safety would belong to him. A delay in greeting Grayson, and nothing to hold over Drake; he had gambled this morning, and he had lost badly.
On the heels of that thought came something much worse than any punishment his father might give him. What rescue? If we can't get in to them...what rescue? They could be stuck in there forever, or until the aftershocks that were still rumbling through the region killed them. And the baddie...who would do something about them? After seeing the pillar in the middle of the dome, there was little question in Damian's mind that their adversary was down below. Grayson and Drake might have been able to tackle them alone, but they had to know about the person first, and there was no way to get a message to them.
A thunk from overhead made him whirl hopefully. Perhaps it had been a rock thrown against the force field to get his attention; better yet, maybe Drake had walked straight into the thing with his face. Grayson?! His posture drooped when he saw that there was no one there. Then what...what made that noise?
His answer hit him in the shoulder a moment later. "Ow!" It hadn't truly hurt, but the surprise of the blow drew the exclamation from his mouth. "What the hell? Oh..." In the grass beside him lay an unmoving robin, its feathers in disarray. Kneeling, he reached out to pick it up. "Ugh..." Its head lay against his fingers at an unnatural angle, and without bringing it close to his face he could see that its beak had cracked. It didn't take a genius to gather that the creature had flown into the barrier at speed and broken its neck, and the symbolism was almost too much for him to bear.
"I get it, I get it," he sniped, setting the little body back down. "I fucked myself by coming here." And that had better be all that that's supposed to mean, too, he added silently. He'd always maintained the position that he didn't believe in omens and other esoterica, but it was still creepy that a robin had flapped suicidally into the very barricade that was proving to be his own downfall.
Rising, he turned to face into the plain. Somewhere out there, unreachable and probably hurt, was the man he would do anything to get to. With him was another man whom Damian supposed he felt an obligation to also bring home, if only because his loss would depress his father and Grayson. Besides, there was no one that he could so easily and regularly annoy as Tim, and that was worth something. Lifting one hand, he placed it on the solid wall in front of him. I tried, he pleaded. I tried so hard, but...I can't get through. I can't get through, and I really don't see how anybody can...
He had to close his eyes for a moment to blink back tears of failure. When he opened them again, his brain stuttered. What...is that...? Surely not. Surely, after all of the time and effort that had been put into their rescue, surely that wasn't his quarry on the horizon.
His binoculars appeared from his belt so quickly that he didn't even realize he'd gone for them. The adjustments seemed to take forever, but once he'd made them he gasped. There was what he'd spotted, two upright figures walking together through a vast sea of grass. It was hard to see small details from his distance, but the bright red package on the back of one made it clear that he wasn't looking at a couple of wild animals pushing the envelope on the next stage in evolution.
"Grayson and Drake," he muttered, a slow grin spreading across his lips as his confidence returned. "I knew I'd find your annoying asses this morning!"
Twenty-odd minutes later he was signaling frantically for the walkers to stop. "Don't come any closer, idiot, you'll run right into it!" he shouted. You're already limping along with a stick for a crutch, he winced, glancing down at the bandages encircling Grayson's leg. Don't make things harder on yourself.
The older pair were clearly happy to see him – even Drake had smiled when they'd first made eye contact – but it was obvious that they didn't know what was going on. They had the wherewithal to appear confused by the fact that they couldn't hear what Robin was saying to them, but even that seemed to be a discovery. To be fair it was new information to the boy as well, but he wasn't surprised by it. If missiles couldn't get through, why would sound be able to?
'Stop!' he signed desperately. 'You can't come closer.'
Dick halted and gave a ferocious pout. Leaning heavily against his stick, he flashed back a question. 'Why not?! And why can't we hear you?'
'There's a...' His fingers paused. What the hell is the sign for 'force field'?! Shit... 'A force field,' he managed finally, resorting to spelling it out for lack of any other option. 'Nothing can get through from either side.'
The men exchanged a glance, and Tim entered the conversation. 'That's impossible, Robin. You know that's impossible.'
'It's not impossible,' he insisted. 'If you don't believe me, walk forward about two steps and check.'
Tim's mouth moved as he said something to Dick, and then he moved up, keeping his unbandaged hand extended in front of him. After a pace and a half he stopped, his jaw dropping. Bringing up his other hand, he traced the inside of the force field. 'What the fuck?!' he signed.
Now Grayson came forward as well and ran the same brief experiment. 'Okay, that's not good.'
'No, it isn't,' Damian gestured back. 'We've been trying to get in since yesterday afternoon, but...' Anger and shame flooded him, and he lowered his gaze to the ground. '...Nothing's working. We can't get in.'
A beat passed as he shoved his emotions down. When he looked up again, Dick was talking to him. 'It's okay, little brother,' his fingers promised below his sympathetic face. 'We'll figure it out somehow.'
'Where's Batman?' Tim broke in.
'At the Watchtower, doing something with a task force to try and break through this stupid forc-' Frustrated with spelling it out, he stopped midway through. 'This stupid wall. I'm calling it that from now on. It's easier.'
'Wall it is,' Dick nodded. 'But Robin...does he know you're here? Batman, I mean?'
'No. Well...probably by now.' His flight had to have been discovered by now. He was amazed he'd gotten away with it as long as he had, and there was no way that Alfred hadn't found him missing yet.
'So you...you stole the Batplane?!' Tim gaped.
'Yeah. I did. So what?' Damian snapped back. 'I had to do something, didn't I? Do you wantto stay inside of a thirty-mile wide slice of nowhere forever? What would your computer do without you, Drake?'
'Relax, guys,' Dick indicated before they could launch into one of their usual verbal battles. 'Fighting won't help. Tell us what you've tried, Robin, and we'll see what we can think of.'
'...We've tried everything. Even missiles. Even Superman. Nothing...nothing works.' He paused. I can't get you out of there. Here you are, a foot away, and I can't...I can't get to you. He would never admit as much in front of Tim or anyone else, but at that moment all he wanted in the world was a hug from his big brother. I can't get to you, but...but maybe you can get to the baddie. 'We can't get through, but maybe you can.'
'Huh?' a simultaneous query flashed from two sets of hands.
'There's a big metal pole sticking straight up in the middle of the wall,' he explained, his fingers tripping over themselves in his excited urgency. 'The wall is a dome, okay? It curves overhead, and in the very middle is this pole. I just found it this morning, Batman doesn't even know yet. But I think that's where it's coming from. I think that's what's creating it. And I think whoever's making it is in there with you.' Seeing Tim's skeptical look, he rushed on. 'Batman thinks so, too. He said as much last night, that the person is probably under the wall.
'And there's more. He also thinks...well...he thinks that the person making the wall also made the earthquake yesterday, and a bunch more too, all around the world. Grayson...Drake...I...' The power of what he needed to tell them struck him then, and his hands went slack for an instant. What he was about to say would most likely result in the pair turning their obviously battered bodies around and heading back into the wilderness to tackle an unknown opponent with no gear and almost no information. What he was about to say might very well get them killed. But there's no other way, he swallowed hard. We can't get in, they can't get out...the only way left to attack is from the inside.
'...I think you might be the only people in the world who can make this stop.'