Batman and Robin sit quietly in the Batmobile, the only noise in the cabin is the chiming of the computer as Robin searches for any signs of trouble happening in town. There are no alarm triggers, few calls on the police radio, and little to no trouble on the streets they pass on their patrol. Robin breaks the silence.

"It's unusually quiet, don't you think?"

"Mm," Batman hums thoughtfully, "It has been for a few nights now."

"Maybe Gotham's finally cured! Cue the applause, it's time for our retirement."

"I wouldn't hang your cape up just yet, Robin. Something's going on here, and we're going to find out what."

"Is it so hard to believe we've made a difference?"

"Believe me, I'd like nothing more than to believe we are no longer needed. But this quickly? The problems of this city need more than a few days to disappear. Something's going on here."

"Maybe the commissioner's got a clue."

Robin points to the sky, noting the Bat Signal's light shining among the clouds. The Batmobile's tires screech as it makes an abrupt change of course, turning down a nearby side street. Batman navigates the streets of Gotham until they are a safe enough distance from the precinct to park the Batmobile in an inconspicuous alley. Then the two of them exit and grapple onto a nearby building.

"You think there's a new player in town?"

"Something's keeping the usual element off the streets of Gotham."

They swing onto the roof of the precinct, greeted by Commissioner Gordon's somber face. He acknowledges them once they land.

"Batman."

"Commissioner, I got your call. What have you got?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid. Word on the street is: someone called Deathstroke is in Gotham. We got the tip from some bookies that were brought in on some petty charges. Apparently, this Deathstroke has made a name for himself in the underworld. They were really shook up about him, but wouldn't give us any more information than his name. I took the liberty of doing some research into him myself; he's got quite the record. He's a contract killer, if the name Deathstroke didn't already give that away."

"Any leads on who his target is?"

"Not yet. I've tried reaching out to some of my contacts but no one's willing to risk giving information about this guy. I feel like I'm chasing my own tail on this one; any help would be appreciated. I don't like the idea of an assassin running around my city."

"I'll look into it."

Gordon pulls out a file folder that has been tucked under his arm this whole time and hands it over to Batman.

"Here. It's not much, but I made you a copy of everything I found on him so far. From what I have been able to gather, I can tell you he's a dangerous man. If you do track him down, you might not want to take the kid."

Robin pulls a face at his comment.

"I'm right here, you know? I can handle myself, Commissioner. Besides, if he's as dangerous as you say the big man's going to need backup."

He turns his attention to Robin. "Make sure you watch his back, then, and don't either of you take any unnecessary risks."

"You can count on me, Commissioner," Robin cheerily responds.

The sound of Batman's grappling gun firing off echoes out as Robin is finishing his sentence. Robin spins on his heels to find Batman already swinging onto a nearby building. He groans frustratingly and mumbles to himself, "I hate it when he does that." He hurries after Batman, vaulting himself forwards and upwards to try and catch up to him.

"I have a lead Robin," he says mockingly to himself, "just follow me." And then in a falsely cheery tone, "Don't mind if I do, partner."

Batman's voice rings out in his ear, interrupting his sassy monologue.

"Robin, your comm is on."

Robin gives a little start and then sticks his tongue out at Batman's back.

"Since you can hear me. Do you have any leads?"

"No, but I thought we'd start by shaking some trees, see if anything falls out."

"Where to first, the Iceberg Lounge?"

"Always a good place to start."

When the two of them arrive at the club they rouse an immediate stir. Batman kicks open the door, causing the guard on the other side to topple over. Murmurs and shouts of surprise echo out over the mass of criminals and other patrons. The remaining guards at the door are quick to act once the doorman hits the floor.

"Batman," they shout.

Batman and Robin easily subdue the thugs. Batman deftly dodges the swing of the man closest to him and launches a counter strike to the man's abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. Robin somersaults over the man approaching him and then delivers a kick to the small of his back, sending him flying forwards. Robin pulls a face, offended at the goon's dismissal of him.

"And Robin. Sheesh, what am I, chopped liver?"

"That can be arranged, Bird Brain."

Penguin's retort causes Robin to throw his hands up to try and diffuse the situation.

"Relax, Penguin, this is a social call."

"I don't use that name anymore. And since when does The Batman make social calls?"

"Since a trained killer started lurking the streets of Gotham."

A tension ripples out through the crowd at Batman's allusion to Deathstroke. Everyone in the club seems to straighten out their backs and tighten their lips when he comes up. The Penguin shows them a disgruntled frown before motioning with his arm.

"Let's talk somewhere more private, shall we?"

Batman casts a glance over at Robin, raising his eyebrow suspiciously. Robin shrugs in reply, shaking his head to tell him he doesn't have a clue either. Without exchanging any more words, they comply, following behind him.

"Listen, I don't want this guy in Gotham any more than you do. He's bad for business; he's got everyone on edge."

"What do you know?"

"Not much except he's a hired gun who's incredibly good at his job. He's got a high success rate and a price to match it; rumor is he never misses his target. Everyone knows he's not one to be trifled with but no one knows who his target is and everyone's worried it's them. That's about all I know."

Robin crosses his arms and casts a look of disbelief over at Batman. Batman looks back over at Cobblepot and crosses his arms as well before speaking.

"Try again."

"Honestly, that's everything I know. Perhaps you've forgotten but I'm not in the game anymore, gents."

"Funny," Robin starts sarcastically, "that's not what I heard."

"I wouldn't put stock in such unsubstantiated rumors. They aren't a very reliable source of information. I can assureyou all of my business is above board."

"We're not here for you, Penguin, but if you can't be of any help to us that might change."

"A bird in the hand, and all that," Robin chimes in.

"You can't threaten me like that!"

Silently, Batman casts a glare at Cobblepot, letting him know with just a single look that his threat is not an empty one. Despite his brave front, Cobblepot's facade crumbles in the face of Batman's intimidation.

"Alright, alright. I've heard whisperings of a hit ordered on a very prominent figure in Gotham. No one knows for sure exactly who ordered it or who it's on, but if the rumors are to be believed it has something to do with the Falcones and the Maronis."

"So, the bird can sing." Robin quips.

"Now would you get out of my club already?"

"Pleasure doing business with you!"

Batman abruptly turns away and shoots his grappling gun off, zipping away without another word. Robin gives the Penguin a two finger salute good-bye and a playful wink before following Batman's lead.

"Where to first, Batman? The Falcones or the Maronis?"

"We split up, recon only. I'll take the Falcones, you take the Maronis. Keep your comm on."

"You got it, boss."

The two of them split off and go their separate ways to gather intel on the two biggest crime families in Gotham. Dick heads for the address they have on file for Sal Maroni, figuring the best source of information would be from the top. He approaches the office building on his grappling hook, looking for a good vantage point. Once he finds a rooftop a good enough distance away he settles in and pulls out his binoculars. He can't see much, but he can see the shadows of movement through the curtains at the window. That is enough to start. He launches a batarang, equipped with a microphone into the brick facade near the window and tunes in to listen.

"That chicken shit coward Falcone. Where does he get off doing this to you boss? He doesn't even have the balls to handle it himself. No honor in that one."

"Jimmy, I'd appreciate it if you did less mouthing off and more looking out."

"I recognize that voice," Robin says to himself, "that one's Sal. Bingo."

"You got it Boss. It just don't sit right with me, is all."

"Imagine how I feel."

Engrossed in his surveillance, Robin doesn't notice the man approaching him from behind until the last moment. As he turns his head suspiciously, the man clocks him in the temple with the butt of a gun in his hand. The gleam of his mechanical eye blurs in Robin's vision as he falls unconscious. With his few moments of conscious thought he manages to hit his distress signal, alerting Batman before he falls. The man looks down at him before kicking him off of the roof and out of his way.

"Sorry kid, it's just business."

Robin's unconscious body tumbles off of the building and careens towards the hard concrete below as the man sets up a sniper rifle aimed at the same window Robin was looking through. Several feet down from the top of the building a decorative stone facade catches Robin's falling body. He lands on his side, knocking the wind out of him and startling him back awake. The sharp pain in his side clouds his senses and it takes him a few moments to register the situation he finds himself in. He looks up and scans the skies, recognizing the familiar silhouette of Batman above him. He hears the sounds of a fist fight above him, the sounds of fists and laborious grunting. Knowing he has to right himself so he can lend a hand to his partner, he gathers his strength and his wits and reaches into his utility belt to grab a grappling gun. The gun fires and he pulls himself upwards back onto the roof, his sides screaming out in pain with his movement. When he lands he finds Batman rising from a place on the floor and a well-equipped man bounding away from him. Batman throws his cape back as he straightened himself out, watching in frustration as their assailant gets away. Robin moves to pursue him but Batman stops him with an outstretched arm. They exchange glances as they engage in a silent argument.

"I messed up, I'm sorry."

"You're injured. Let's head back."