Author's Note: Here is Part One of Curtain Call. The second part will be available from close of play tomorrow. Apologies for the format, but I am struggling with the final five hundred words of this story arc and require more time to tailor it properly before publication. Jason and Bruce argue the merits of one plan against another. Enjoy.

Curtain Call

Way back when I was that homeless kid that decent people tried to ignore, I snuck into a comedy club on the edge of Crime Alley to shelter from the rain. And I watched this comedian fall flat in front of about two hundred people. And the worse thing about the whole situation for this poor smuck was that nobody in the audience said a word. They didn't jeer or boo or even turn and whisper to each other; they just silently stared at him. After five minutes of bone yard like quiet, the curtain mercifully came down in front of this guy and only then did the relaxed atmosphere return to the club. Behind the curtain, you could hear him crying. Before that night, I thought the worse thing to hurt someone with was some seriously blue language or just hitting them until they bled. But it's not. The worse thing to hurt someone with is silence. Because unlike praise or criticism, silence tells you nothing. Silence gives you nothing either, but it can eat you in terms of confidence and belief. For a while after that night in the club, I flirted with the idea of the silent treatment being worse than any other punishment, but sort of in two minds about there being worse things out there than someone not talking to you. Then I met Bruce and I was never unsure again. His silence, both at work and in life, absolutely kills me.

That's why I'm glad for guys like The Joker. The man is a homicidal maniac with the worst repertoire of jokes in the universe, but at least he's vocal. At least he always tells you what he thinks, even if you don't want to hear it, about everything drifting through his head. Take his 'master' plan for example; he publicly announced he intends to kill one person for every man, woman and child who ever insulted him. He counts that total at a generously low three-hundred thousand, four-hundred-and twenty-seven. So, the next question is how will he do it? And he tells you. Joker has possession of an atomic bomb. He says that, unless Batman can stop him, he'll activate the bomb which will have a yield large enough to cover a six-mile radius, taking out almost all of The Narrows and Park Row. Somehow, the clown's calculated that those two areas hold the exact number of people he wants to kill, although I'm pretty sure he'll be down a junkie or two by ten tonight. So, big mouth has given us the how, the why but not the when. Oh wait, yeah he has. We've got until midday tomorrow to find him and the bomb and deactivate it. That's roughly twenty hours.

Right now, I think laughing boy is going to expect the whole of Gotham to be in uproar and running around like headless chickens thinking about a Chernobyl-style disaster. He wants newspaper headlines to read END OF THE WORLD and other ridiculous predictions so he can roll around on the floor, clutching his sides. But, of course none of those scenarios are playing out right this second. Bruce has successfully blocked the transmission from getting to mainstream receivers in people's homes; right now everybody's still watching America's Got Talent, hoping the fat girl warbling for the judges either falls off the stage or simply goes through it. Only I and the big guy have seen Joker's Nuclear Playtime Disaster and I want my money back. I just did not like the presenter; the guy was trying way too hard to be funny.

Bruce is in contact with Gordon and his bomb disposal team in minutes and supplying them with a huge list of potential bomb sites that could conceivably kill that many people. He tells the commissioner to concentrate on finding the bomb because their best chance is disarming it, not reasoning with Joker. Meanwhile, Batman and Robin are going to try and reason with The Joker. Figures.

"So what we gonna do?" I ask still sat in the chair wearing Bruce's dressing gown.

"Finding a nuclear bomb should be child's play if you have a Geiger counter. There are only three sites in the whole city where such an explosive could avoid attention and be within range to eliminate the intended targets." He gestures at me with his hand. I give him a hard stare; he wants me to tell him the three possible sites. If my training for this crazy job didn't include a three-week course in the rudiments of nuclear physics and the industrial history in Gotham's power sources (don't ask how, but I got ninety-five per cent on the final exam), I wouldn't be rolling my eyes right now. I sigh before reeling off some applied knowledge.

"Well it's not the Industrial District; that's five miles east of Park Row. And it can't be the disused reactor because that's out of range completely. So it has to be somewhere in Amusement Mile." Bruce nods once before gesturing again.

"Explain." I slouch back in the chair and puff out my cheeks. I don't need my training to explain this gem; being a street kid surprisingly gives you the same insight, just with a little more colour. I begin.

"Storage facility for nuclear materials built back in the fifties still has a stupidly high radiation level; there was a rumour in Crime Alley that if you got too close your balls began to glow in the dark. That's why the whole stretch is pretty much abandoned now. If you wanted to hide a nuclear bomb, you'd want to put it there, right next door to Park Row." The big man looks satisfied with my answer. He leans back in his chair too before finishing the theory work.

"And the resulting blast wave would pass through The Narrows on its way to the docks." I shrug my shoulders.

"So why didn't you just tell Gordon to start his search there?"

"Because I want to attempt disarming the device first, before we get them involved." Bruce wants to try deactivating an atomic death-trap by burying his fingers in wires and plucking them out. Who needs professionals anyway? I mean, why bother having amateur bomb disposal experts if you won't give them a big job every now and then? And I bet he won't be doing it in a protective suit like other people would, no; he'll be disarming a nuclear bomb dressed as a bat. Should I stick my hand up and ask whether he wants a boy in pixie shorts as a witness?

"Please don't tell me you want me to watch when you do that."

"I need you to scout the area for dangers and deal with them before they reach me."

"In the vaporizing zone of a nuclear explosion."

"Jason…"

"Bite me. Just leave it to the professionals, Bruce."

"They won't be able to stop him. Since he arrived here, they have always relied on us to take him down."

"We're not talking about Joker; we're talking about a very lethal bomb and being at the epicentre of the fucking thing. Let them try. You're only one man. They deal with the device and we try to stop the maniac at the source. Working with Gordon is supposed to mean a partnership. You know I'm right. This is how the world is supposed to work. So let's give Gordon the device's most likely location and concentrate on Joker's hideout. You said the broadcast originated from The Bowery, a brownstone building. "

"Why is it so important I not handle this matter personally?"

"Because it's stupid. That's why; because it's stupid. Do it my way. Let's pretend we're friends already and trust each other's judgement. Your idea is stupid and pointless. My idea is logically sound and offers a heroic finish that doesn't involve being splattered all over the city. Let's pretend we both know which one is better and just go with mine. Okay?" Bruce looks astonished by what I just said, but not enough to be lost for words unfortunately. He rediscovers his hard stare.

"Sometimes I truly wonder what must go on in your head. For a sixteen-year-old boy to talk down to someone who is not only almost two decades older than him, but also his mentor, partner and surrogate father is astounding. You honestly believe you know best, don't you?" I sigh lethargically.

"Don't make this into an ego trip."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll lose." This time the big man is rendered totally mute. I stare at him hard and hold his gaze without blinking. For once, he relents first and turns away. He calls Gordon again and gives the location of the bomb, recommending he gets the bomb disposal team to the location within the next twenty minutes and cordons off and evacuates a six-mile radius of the device. This means I've won. He's not going to say anything sporting like that having been knocked off his pedestal, but I know I've won. "So now what's our plan, Boss man?"

"We suit up and track down The Joker."