Teen Titans Presents; Renegade - Prison Break – Break Out!
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Chapter Three: Three's A Crowd; Food Fight!
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Time was moving rather slowly inside of Richard's barred cell. Getting ansty to move about it, he did but saw no vents, not a visible one anyway, or even what looked to be…
Stall. As in…
Dick covered her nose.
The toilet had been in use, this was an older cell block as the mechanism wasn't like Metropolis's prisons – those were practically Finland's gift!
(Just making a joke that Rob has to see Crapper at his worst. Ha ha.)
"I'll see if…"
Just as he was about to get over to see if the neighbor with a bad shave had flown off, the door opened up.
"Lunch is served, new boy."
Dick had a problem with less people in Gotham than with a dang…whatever this sergeant was. He nodded and rose, no expression given until he was flanked behind two guards extra.
"You think you run this place an' eat the best, sleep on a bed a' gold, do ya boy? All of the good boys don't have to eat in their pens like swine. Good this warden has it out for you being a long-term associate while under her protection." The man didn't sound amused by his own words and to Dick he must have been envious of a kid for getting so much from the man's own boss. Too pathetic but that made him a potential enemy if he decided to sabotage Dick's chances to stay where Slade's hands couldn't reach.
"No, sir." Dick had learned one thing in three days so far; the warden's gutless man servant was a pig. He needed a kick in the keister, though she could only go so far with what was allowed here. She was a warden, but the power she held didn't extend to this type of corporal punishment.
"After yer meal, you got a surprise waitin' so I best think it wise fer you to eat yer fill up an' then git outta that lion's den as fast as your puny legs can crawl."
Dick was shoved ahead by the man's nightstick with two guards ducking their heads in shame, unable to lose their jobs or their heads.
Dick stayed upright as spoken to; the proud son of a conglomerate that could change the world, he had no way to deny his role, nor his heritage as a hero of the people.
The shouting, spitting, yelling and rumblings of the lunch hall was relatively more composed, yet on the surface Dick saw through that lie.
Different groups, all with eyes on the new boy as he was lead down a set of metal steps into the belly of the beast.
The cuffs were deactivated as they pulled apart into two manacles. Dick looked back at the warden's dog headed ally, confused.
"Can you eat on your hands and knees, boy? I'm not an animal trainer so I'd say not…. Go eat and keep yer head down if ya can."
He was left in his orange jumpsuit, his mask off and the crowded space as stifling hot as Louisiana was this summer on record.
Dick tried to keep a stoic false face; one no one would need to both but…
He was getting a lot of eyes from all over the room…
He moved, gingerly across the floor to a tray and went to see if there was food left.
To his shock, it was school lunch in comparison to movies that displayed gruel.
"Pasta salad…. cherry tomatoes…whoa…this is –
"You likin' the view, mate?"
Dick turned his head to a ginger Aussie who looked to be in his thirties.
He wore for some reason a blue jumpsuit with a blue ski cap. The hat had a military emblem of two golden wings on it as Dick forced himself to not get too entranced by the glimmering template.
"Suicide Squad" had come to mind until his new admirer had a say in what came next.
"Don't eat the worms, lad." Five O'clock put a palm over the pork chops and shook his finger with a wag.
"Best is to avoid anything covered in gravy inside this joint. Will have you in a coma right before you reach the scale for a weekly physical."
"Hi….and, thanks." Dick frowned, squinting, and moved around his admirer, but the man didn't like to play messenger. He knew about this kid from Deadshot. Capt. Boomerang was right on time to dilly –
"Rude, enough? I was only being nice, wanker…" The bloke had no words to wear off his sleeve as Capt. just had his eye on the swift feet of such a wonder brat to join their little den of criminal outcasts.
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Dick ignored the man as he went to find a seat at an unoccupied table. The group in the corner he'd previously gotten dirty looks from had gang emblems etched into their skins and some even had worked out for years it seemed, as Dick ignored their dark leers.
Leer…
He walked faster –
" Hey!"
Dick was definitely aware of the system, yet the nitty - gritty was not it.
He was forced to swerve round and slam his tray into the closest brute's tattooed face.
A full piece of vanilla frosted cake, all of it slipping off of the man's cheek as a slap of flour and cream hit the ground.
"You had better pick up your mess, and get me a new piece of cake. Boya…." The man pushed Dick into the table and went for his shuddering prey's suit zipper. Dick flushed red like a stop sign, squirming as a hand came over his mouth.
A term of endearment? He was not going to…
Take this!!!
Dick raised his arms, rather they were raised by that crew's few clustering rapists, until Boomerang had seen plenty. With lungs like a steam whistle, he let her rip.
" FOOOOOD FIGHT!!"
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Very soon, right in the muck of their brawl, Captain obvious had blown a shriek as Deadshot cut his way through the "pork chop hockey pucks to the cahones" and "pies to the face," to see that Boomer was in on trying to push the kid to stand up and make it through day three with an un- whacked tush.
"Get up! He's a pansy compared to us, lad!"
Deadshot slammed his fist into the table. "No! No fighting! –
" Touchdowwn !!"
Deadshot blinked and spat out a face full of whipped cream.
"Who threw that? Come on! I don't want to have to toss the book at you morons!"
The palooka who'd just thrown that pie, was gonna get his cake today !
Deadshot lost his temper, dipping into the spilling madness as grown adults fought in the center of a cleverly arranged distraction.
Dick tried to hop onto a metal table as his feet hit the pudding pie first, kicking it up to again give the lackey of some two-bit grimy crime lord a run for his money.
"I'm gonna murder your ass!! PUNK !" The grimy creep who had tried to rip down his suit before bellowed out a yell, charging in, bull in the stadium style. Pie smashed on to his face like a bad movie about "Denice the Menace." Copyright.
Deadshot shot into the fray after the kid's air was ready –
He was too quick. Really, the boy wonder with his triple axel leap was –
"What's going on in here!!?"
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Waller came by with her rat warden associate. Her eyes were pure red in Dick's line of sight as he landed, mostly as he always could.
Flawlessly, of course.
Despite the cafeteria spat and the toro being pulled back by a few more guards for nearly breaking his cuffs.
"YOU." She pointed to the bewildered boy wonder. " My. office. The rest of you, get this place fixed up and get back to your cells."
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Richard's mind buzzed with the questions he could ask. Had to, as the given thought was…. why him?
She let the door slide back as Dick let out a gasp, his eyes bright and wide when his hope had returned.
"Bruce!!" For that time, he was allowed to hug his tired father hard around the middle. No cuffs necessary.
"See?" Waller crossed her arms and smiled like a fox. "Told you he was alright."
"I…can't believe it…Dick?" Bruce truly wanted to get this trial over and done, do away with the con man holding Dick's life in his hands.
"Yeah…" Dick smiled maskless, up at his mentor. "Glad you got my S.O.S, B."
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"We…"
The thought had never crossed him as Bruce put his head into his hands. Dick shook his, not wanting to hear the fall of angels from the air to the hard ground.
"Slade changed not only your identity, but your legal guardianship by illegal means that can't be tampered with by my people."
Dick hoarsely croaked. "That…that's not alright. B? What happened? Why am I –
"He must have tried to do this back with a hack into your records. In…here, you're Rick Wil –
"I'm not!" Dick shook his head. "I'm Dick Grayson and you both KNEW about him!" He exclaimed as a child might, for he was only fifteen.
"What he's done to me, to my face? My identity??…Bruce…. Waller? Why can't I get out of this?"
"Blackmail is a heinous crime if done carefully, and your enemy is no small feat for the imagination." Bruce had only that much to add, his own hope on standby until they beat the loophole to its core.
Waller sighed and remembered the Bizarro incident. "Your case is that Babcock got into swaying this jail's legal system in a heartbeat. Unnatural, and I think he was a real person too. Got axed and then Deathstroke swooped in for his chance to keep this kid on his toes. I don't want a mass murdering psychopath in a jail for those who haven't gotten to GO to Arkham yet. What I want, is for Deathstroke to get the guillotine."
"'And I'm the one who drove a madman to come here in the first place…But…death?" Dick fought back his own regret in his voice. Bruce just stayed quiet, waiting for a turn of his own.
Waller had the floor, and he wanted her opinion on this treachery of his family's welfare and wellbeing.
"Dick. You need to keep out of trouble, don't make these giant goons think you're someone to stick it to. I know that it looks like we have your back, but backs do turn. You almost got –
"I, was going to mention that." He told the warden. "A guy…. Australian I think, he tried to get that tattooed jerk to back off of me…But I panicked." He put his hands in his lap and bowed his head with a reddish hue to his poor face. "They would have done worse, if that guy hadn't thrown a pie at all."
"He's one of my finest suicide squad captains. And that Tattooed man was a goon of Bane's for a long time. Would be a problem if word caught in Gotham too."
Bruce looked at Waller and had to ask; he had to say thank you when the meeting was over too. Dick had nearly gotten sexual assaulted if no one had stepped in when they did.
"We have to up our guard. I have a few members on y elite team inside the prison posing as inmates or inmates who are loyal to me; they will keep you safe, but be careful."
She was very serious about all of it as Dick saw Bruce run a hand through his hair. This news was shattering him.
"If Slade got in at any time after Rick became a resident here, he has to know how to bypass security, but why wait? Why not get it all done and over?"
Dick had to frown at B's question, and for that exact moment he knew…
"Slade…he said in the room before…" Dick tried to speak up. "He told me what Deathstroke was capable of, what Slade would do to my teammates if I didn't play the role he wanted me to. Up to the trial."
Dick saw Bruce brooding again and he knew that the detective was back. He couldn't thank his stars just yet.
"What can he do in his position of power." Dick bit his lip, wanting to rock himself yet not until he was in his cell, fast asleep.
"He's a con man. I can give you evidence of it…the camera! Do you have sound on –
"It was cut."
Dick blinked. "What? How?"
"He's not working alone."
Dick's face grew grimly into a fine line. "Slade Bots…." He grumbled.
"Slade…robots?"
"Like during Red..." Dick stopped himself. "During the heist back in the summer, when a new thief took those computer chips from various locations around our city in the tech sector.
"Robots? Sounds like a whole new man to me. He used to hate those things." Waller told the heroes. "I even made him fight am A.I and he came crawling back to have a rematch, claimed it was too invasive. Needed to tweak it and broke out that night..."
"His robots are drones, just foot soldiers and cronies without souls." Dick fumed in his seat. "They'd be programed to do…what I was…. I'm not a killer, Mrs. Waller."
"We know that, Dick. But in order to clear your name, we have to work over this –
Bruce looked to Amanda as her face remained passive.
"Two months. I can extend the trial if it's permitted, but he has a sway somehow over my employees. I want to know why and who's leaking as much information as their pockets can carry."
"I'll try to figure that out while I'm finding my supposed niche." Dick looked to the two adults. "I just wanted to ask. Do you know the Australian I was talking about?"
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"George "Digger" Harkness."
"I know that name from the JLA's files." Bruce rubbed his chin and nodded. "What was his crime, do you know specifically why he was put in Belle Reve?" If Dick was going to go undercover partly, he had to be sure the man carried no ill will towards heroes. Lest he be swayed by the enemy, as Amanda had said.
"Guess you don't know. He's a con, no way a real face in the news. Flash's enemy, but still he's a clown to anyone in the facility who's seen him in action."
"So, he's, my cover. Right?" Dick asked, not sure if he got what she was trying to spell out to the heroes.
"In a way, also…Deathstroke hates any unprecedented outcomes. A little chaos might work well in your favor, so keep close to that jester and you might be alright."
"Are there more, on your team I mean?"
Amanda Waller nodded, reciting the many from memory since they were that close.
"Recently cleared of charges and on his way to freedom in the next two years; Floyd Lawton; A.K.A The Batman's own…Deadshot."
Bruce gripped his seat, knowing that name from pure memory.
"He's not –
"Deadshot?? Who?" Dick looked to the adults with eyes widened. "He…. five o'clock. He asked me way too much…so, then you sent him?" As did Dick, who also respected the fact that he was being protected BY mercenaries TO PREVENT ONE FROM ABDUCTING OR HAMING HIM.
"I did, and he stopped the worst that mighta' become of my mess hall, not at any more a later time that Captain Boomerang could pull you out of that pile." Amanda said in a matter-of-fact way. He guessed it, but the Aussie mate was actually looking out for him…
"Mr. Wayne. I can always ask Harley a favor or even King Shark who wouldn't see a hair on this boy's head come to any harm, but we need to fight fire with fire."
Bruce clenched the arm of his chair, seeing Dick bunch up his shoulders, Afraid of another scare like before.
He was just a kid…this was –
"Rick is still Rick to the press, to my faction. To you and I, even to Slade, we all know the truth. So do certain members of Task Force X if I'd wanted them to walk us down the road to any answers. It is for certain; in this jail, someone is not abiding by my given law and order. The Batman is welcomed to join in and find the culprit, or you can sit back and let my team watch the kid's back AND unmask our traitor in the course of a few weeks."
She sat back, letting her allies consider the results first. Bruce nodded, seeing Dick waver in protest as he did.
"You'll have to stay. The law is that your trial will determine if we can move you from Belle Reve, but Dick." Bruce put a hand on Dick's bruised shoulder.
Bruce pulled back, a gasp on his lips. "Who hurt –
"One of the warden's men. Bit of a bully." Dick rubbed the spot, not afraid to rat on someone that corrupt.
"Oh, that old timer Wyatt is always looking to rough up the new blood. If you have any trouble, you make sure my team hears of it. You're still a minor, Dick."
Waller looked more than a person with power, she acted as a protector while Dick knew why Bruce had stayed on safe ground with the African American woman.
She had kids, children of her own.
He was innocent enough to go back…
But, would that mean no more Titans?
"We'll stop Slade, Dick." Bruce tried to be the support he needed as well, eyes trying to stay settled on the task at hand.
"Try to hold out a little while longer. We won't let anyone hurt you."
"I hope so B." Dick stood up, the time he had coming to a close. "Bane's crew were the ones who had it out for me. Just hope that I'm quick enough the next time…"
He was led out as both adults felt their stomachs drop.
Once the door had shut, Bruce turned to Waller, eyes near furious for what Dick had been forced to experience.
"Waller. I'll pay double if I have to get him a lunch with the staff. I don't want him anywhere near the Batman's enemies."
Waller looked out distantly at the door, then at the floor with a sigh, lips pursed to control her own emotions.
"I'll see what solution we can come up with for him." She answered, voice lowered as the rest…was left up to a corruptible system that had no such ruler to abide by. "Though, it will take some time to process a request…Mr. Wayne."
Not if Deathstroke had anything to say about it.
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