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Issue #2

"Bullets, Banks, and Babies."

By: D. Golightly

 

Well, this is just fantastic , Nightwing thought.

The costumed hero quickly squirmed back to the vertical part of the ventilation shaft he was currently hiding in. Or at least, he thought he had been hiding. Somehow, the crooks knew where he was, and they were sending wave after wave of bullets into the wall he was behind.

Tommy Minh had somehow stolen diamonds from Gotham Savings and Loan without anyone knowing about it. Nightwing had gone to the bank to try and find out how he did it, only to witness the bank being robbed barely a day after the first heist.

The former boy wonder grabbed hold of his drop line he had used to repel down the inside of the air shaft. Years of training and experience showed as he shot up the cable faster than most of the world's athletes could have. He heard the loud "thunk!" of bullets slamming into and through drywall. He had barely made it, but he was intact.

"Grab what you can and get moving!" one of the men yelled from the other side of the wall.

Nightwing, assuming they were done firing and now filling their hands with stolen merchandise, let go of his drop line and hit the bottom of the air shaft. He fell into a crouch and kicked out the air conditioning grate he had been looking through. Faster than the robbers expected, Nightwing was through the opening and on his feet.

This is where a good, solid one-liner would come in handy, Nightwing mused as he grabbed his patented escrima fighting sticks from behind his back.

Without hesitation, Nightwing pushed off the top of a nearby desk with one foot, sending him flying over one of the criminals. As he passed over the crook's head, Nightwing curled his body and bashed one of the escrimas against his opponent's skull. The man was unconscious before he hit the floor.

The remaining two robbers dropped their satchels and grabbed their Uzis. Hot lead sprayed across the room as Nightwing landed from his short flight. He used his momentum from the jump to roll behind a support beam. The pillar was thick enough that the bullets slicing through the air couldn't work their way through. As soon as he steadied himself behind the pillar, Nightwing popped out two small pellets from a compartment in his gauntlets.

The gunfire suddenly died off and silence blared. Thirty round clips. Time to reload, boys.

Taking advantage of the sudden lull in opposition, Nightwing swung out from behind the support beam. He broke into a run heading straight for the robbers, after first launching the two pellets. When they struck the floor a couple of feet in front of the men frantically trying to reload their weapons, twin bursts of dark smoke erupted, shrouding Nightwing's approach.

Surprised, one of the men dropped his weapon and started swinging randomly at the smoke. The lenses in Nightwing's mask helped him see through the haze and he easily dodged the wild arms of his opponent. Nightwing rammed one of his escrima sticks into the man's abdominal muscles, forcing him to double over in pain. He was now in the perfect position for Nightwing to knock him unconscious much in the same fashion as he had the crook's partner. A fraction of a second later, the man lay motionless on the floor.

"Mick! Mick! Say something!"

The voice had come from the only remaining thief. Nightwing could hear trembling in his words along with several clicking sounds. The criminal was shaking so much that he wasn't able to put the clip into his gun. Nightwing was still covered by the smoke, so the man wouldn't be sure where to aim anyway.

"Mick can't hear you right now," said Nightwing. "How's about we have a little chat?"

A final click sounded as the last man standing succeeded in arming his weapon. "G.g.go to hell!"

Bullets whizzed passed Nightwing's head. This experience would scare most people, but most people hadn't been in this situation since their childhood. Truly, Nightwing almost felt at home when someone was threatening his life. After a split second of wondering what a psychiatrist might say about that, Nightwing flipped sideways through the smoke. His right arm flashed out, releasing a sharp, metal object.

The criminal felt a sharp pain suddenly grip his left hand. His reflexes caused him to drop his gun and cradle the wounded appendage. The smoke had started to creep over him, but he could still make out the object now imbedded in his hand. He recognized it immediately as one of the costumed adventurers little toys.

Before he could try and pull the wingding out of his hand, Nightwing appeared in front of him. A few blurred movements later and the last robber was unconscious.

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"I'm looking at it right now, Oracle," Nightwing said. He was still inside the bank. Enough time had passed for most of the smoke he had unleashed to be sucked out through the building's vents. The three criminals were tied up, knocked out, and laying in a nice pile against a wall. In his hands, Nightwing had the small handheld computer that had alerted them to his presence somehow.

{{Patch me into it. From what you described, I'll bet they're monitoring the building's security network through it,}} Oracle replied. Even though she was communicating with Nightwing from the Nest, their base of operations several miles away, her voice came in loud and clear.

After Nightwing connected the appropriate wires to Oracle's little black box, he powered up the handheld device. Windows quickly opened and closed on the screen as Oracle rooted around through the programs.

{{Yep. No doubt about it. This explains how they got in undetected and how they knew where you were. They turned the motion sensors off and told the thermographs to ignore everything. Seems like they even found most of Batman's sensors the second time around, which tells us why we didn't know they were there tonight.}}

"I probably tipped them to that when I caught Tommy last night," sighed Nightwing. "They knew the bank's security wasn't what caught them. Anything in there about why they're committing two felonies in as many nights?"

{{Not a thing. They were just hooked up to the bank; there's no data about anything else. This is actually a pretty standard piece of equipment. You can find it online easily.}}

"So that scratches tracing it off the list." Nightwing paused. He turned to look at the pile of crooks before clearing his throat. "Back to the basics. Interrogation 101. Nightwing out."

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Eddie Chee, dubbed Cheeks on account of his name and appearance, wasn't a "made" man yet. He had some proving to do. He hated being treated like a brainless soldier, but what choice did he have? The Minh's had brought him over to the U.S. as a favor to his father, but he still had to show his superiors he could be trusted. Until then, it was, "Yes, sir.no, sir."

Cheeks had plans. Big plans. He wasn't an idiot.he was fully prepared to kill as many people as he had to in order for things to go his way. He was just biding his time.

The way he was currently biding his time, however, wouldn't be able to get him what he wanted. It would instead get someone else what they wanted. One of those costumed nutcases he had heard about so much was trying to work him over. He was wrapped up in some kind of rope, dangling by his feet over 3 rd Avenue.

"I don't have all night, buddy," the costumed man said. "Tell me what's going on and I'll put in a good word for you with the police."

"You can't do nothing! I've read about you guys. You think you're heroes! You rescue kittens from trees, for chrissake! Why the hell would I believe your threats about dropping me? You ain't a killer!" Cheeks smiled as best he could. His face still hurt from where he got punched earlier.

Nightwing reached out and pushed Cheeks so he swung out over the empty street. He could hear the rope holding him tighten and stretch. He squirmed a little bit, but didn't let out how scared he was. He didn't think the masked goon would drop him, but he hated heights. He was going to lose his cool soon.

"I'm running out of patience, Cheeks. I won't kill you, but I definitely don't have any problems with dropping you to break a few bones. If scum like you gets laid up in the hospital for a little while with a full body cast, I sleep better at night. Last chance.what's going down?" Nightwing again pushed him enough to cause Cheeks vision to be filled with nothing but pavement.

"What if I just tell you to piss off? Huh?" Cheeks was calling his bluff. Everyone always judged him.they all thought he was just a dumb, fat guy. He was better than that. Better than all of them, and smarter than this whacko in a mask. "What do you think about that, asshole?"

"I think you speak English very well."

"Fuc.whoa!" Cheeks forgot what he was about to say as his stomach turned over. Nightwing had pushed him out again, but this time, he started to drop really fast toward the unforgiving pavement. This was it. He was going to die. He was wrong about the masked guy. He was crazy.

As windows rushed passed him, Cheeks closed his eyes and waited for the end to come. Instead, he felt a sharp tug through the rope, and he stopped falling. The sudden change in velocity caused his stomach to flop once again, this time sending vomit spewing from his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw he was about fifteen feet above street level. Directly under him was a small brown dog with large eyes and rugged fur. Obviously a stray that had wandered over.

After pulling him back up to the top of the building, Nightwing got right up in Cheeks' face. "You're lucky I'm a dog guy. If that had been a cat, you would be wondering if you would ever be able to walk again right about now. Fido down there just bought you another chance. Start talking."

Cheeks spat a small chunk of his dinner out from under his tongue. Barfing upside down was not very pleasant. Tonight wasn't doing anything for his fear of heights, either. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "Tommy set up this sweet deal with the bank's manager so we could get in with no problems. We were just going to grab the diamonds last night, but after what happened, he said we had to go back and make up for the loss."

"What's the deal with the bank manager?" said Nightwing as he poked the hung up mobster gently with his finger. The little tap proved enough to cause Cheeks to spin slightly.

"I don't know! I just do what I'm told, I swear!"

Nightwing backed away from Cheeks, turning to leave. "Hey! Wait! I told you what you wanted! C'mon!"

Nightwing, now at the other edge of the building, responded, "Cheeks, that line isn't even long enough to reach the ground from up here. I never said I was going to let you down." Cheeks' rotation forced his vision away from the hero, and when he spun back, he was gone.

"Forget this," the criminal said. "I'm going back to medical school."

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According to Oracle, Philip Buchis, the manager of Gotham Savings and Loan, rented a penthouse seventeen blocks from the bank. Navigating the rooftops the way he did, it only took Nightwing about nine minutes to get there.

A fairly tall apartment building, Nightwing leapt across an ally to land in front of a window on the seventh floor. He could easily make out from his position some of Minh's soldiers standing guard in front of the main entrance.

Stick out like a sore thumb, why don't ya? Who wears sunglasses at 4 a.m. ? thought Nightwing. Guess there's no chance of quietly asking Mr. Buchis a few questions.

Buchis' apartment was three floors directly below him, and Nightwing doubted he would be there by himself. Gauging the drop, the former boy wonder pulled out several yards of high-composite cable.

Seconds later, the hero smashed through a window and into Buchis' fourth floor living room. Nightwing rolled to his feet and quickly scanned the room: two soldiers standing in an entryway reaching for their shoulder holsters, another choking on some food (probably from Nightwing's shocking entrance), Tommy Minh yelling something profane, and one last thing that took Nightwing off his guard.

In the center of the room was an infant, barely a year old, if that. The child was in one of those baby carriers that parents loved so much, sitting on the coffee table. Buchis was no where to be seen.

First things first. Nightwing charged the two men fumbling for their weapons. The closest managed to pull out a Magnum revolver powerful enough to blow a hole clean through anyone. Nightwing cocked his right arm, and sent one of his escrima sticks flying at the second man, who was still trying to get his piece out. Without breaking stride, Nightwing dove at the ground directly in front of the first man at the same time he heard his projectile slam into the other goon's face.

The Magnum wielding soldier squeezed off a wild shot that did nothing but shatter a vase across the room. Nightwing tucked into his dive, and rolled his feet into the perfect position. The hero pushed off the floor with his hands, causing both of his reinforced boots to crack against the soldier's jaw. In one fluid motion, he had disabled both opponents.

"You're dead, freak!" bellowed Tommy.

On his feet once again, Nightwing turned to see Tommy Minh and the remaining lackey (no longer choking) start to approach him with bloodlust in their eyes. Tommy's nose was bandaged from their last encounter and he held twin daggers upside down in his hands, both eight inches in length.

The other man was spinning a set of nunchaku around his body, slicing through the air with precision. He was obviously trained in how to use them. Nightwing ducked under the first swing of the numchucks, and had to quickly step back in order to avoid one of Tommy's daggers. They were attacking in unison, something that might be deadly to most people. Deadly, unless you were trained by one of the greatest hand-to-hand combatants on the planet.

At times like these, Nightwing simply let instinct take over. Bobbing and weaving between slashes of wood and metal, Nightwing evaded every strike from his opponents, relying on his honed skills to guide him. He wouldn't describe it as easy.but rather, familiar.

The man with the nunchucks lunged at Nightwing, his frustration getting the better of him. With his leap, the man's weight shifted fully forward, giving Nightwing the advantage he needed. One swift roundhouse later and the man was out of the fight.

"You're always there!" Tommy screamed while furiously trying to slice into Nightwing. "You're always in the way! First in Bludhaven, now in Gotham ! Die already!"

"It doesn't take a genius to figure you out," Nightwing said, ducking under another attack. "Sometimes, I swear, you almost want to be caught."

Tommy stabbed again where Nightwing had been a split second before. "You stupid prick! You're so high and mighty! You think I don't know? You think I don't know what you did last year? I saw the whole thing! I saw you !"

Nightwing's eyes expanded behind his mask. He hadn't expected that. He was obviously surprised by Tommy's words, and the Asian man saw his chance to strike. Nightwing felt a sudden seething pain in his left arm. Jumping back, he looked over to see blood trickling down his costume from where Tommy had gouged out part of his flesh. He quickly assessed that no serious damage had been done, although he would probably have a scar.

While the blood didn't mean much to Nightwing, it meant encouragement for Tommy. The criminal tried to press his slight advantage, but his new found faith in himself was misplaced. Nightwing, the trained fighter that he was, simply stepped to the side and clotheslined his opponent.

"Where's Buchis?" Nightwing demanded as he stood over Tommy. The cut in his arm was nothing serious to worry about, but it sure was irritating. He placed his boot on Tommy's neck, pressing slightly. "What's the deal you had worked out with him? Percentages?"

Tommy coughed, meaning he had an answer and that Nightwing should let off his neck a little. "That moron doesn't see a dime," he said, smiling. "He's a coward. All we had to do was take one of his kids away and he let us waltz right in. Hooked us up to the security and everything. He even deleted the records of what we were taking."

"Why go back to the bank again? After last night you had to have known I was paying attention."

Tommy chuckled. "But you couldn't prove anything. You still can't. My guys made sure there wasn't any evidence of my involvement. They won't implicate me at all. I'll tell the police I was visiting my good friend Phil when you busted in and tour up the place. I've spread enough money around this town to make sure I can't be taken down."

Just then, on the furthest reaches of his peripheral vision, Nightwing saw movement from somewhere in the apartment. He reapplied the pressure to Tommy's neck and turned to face whoever else was in the room.

"Back.b.back off!" said Philip Buchis, manager of Gotham Savings and Loan. He was obviously very distressed and on the edge. He was waving one of the soldier's guns around as his voice quivered. "Get out of here! I'll shoot if I have to! You'll ruin everything and I'll never see my daughter again!"

Nightwing raised his hands open-palmed. "Mr. Buchis, I can help you. I can get your daughter back. Tommy Minh is finished and he'll tell you what you need to know."

Tommy let out another chuckle as well as he could with a foot on his throat. "He doesn't know what to do unless someone tells him! He's pathetic! Phil! Shoot this asshole or your daughter's a dead girl!"

"Mr. Buchis, just relax and put the gun down. It's over."

"Shoot him!" Tommy screamed.

Philip's mind was filled with possibilities. He didn't know what to do. He loved his daughter and he wanted her back. His sweet little girl.she wasn't even old enough to talk yet. Her twin brother was crying in his carrier on the coffee table. Earlier that night, Tommy Minh had threatened to take him, too if tonight's robbery ended the way yesterday's had.

Minh was just like all those bullies from Philip's youth. Always there, always pushing, always degrading him. He wasn't a little kid anymore. He had a family now. He had twin children. He had a gun. He had power now.

Philip stopped shaking. Nightwing could see determination enter his eyes. I know what that means.don't do it. he thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Barbara Grayson handed her husband a steaming hot cup of coffee. She had been in the business long enough to know that the caffeine did little to soothe the effects of the night's event, but it did wonders for a person's disposition.

"Why don't you jump in the shower?" she said. "You don't have to worry about getting the stitches in your arm wet. The steam would relax you."

Dick Grayson took a long sip from his mug. He closed his eyes, going over everything that had happened in the last 36 hours. After a deep breath, he finally acknowledged his wife's comment. "No.no. I'm okay. I just need some sleep. Do you.do you ever think about what happened eight months ago in Bludhaven?"

"Dick.you can't let this eat you alive. Especially after the good you did tonight. You taped Tommy Minh admitting how he kidnapped Philip Buchis' daughter to coerce him into helping with the bank robbery. The tiny camera in your mask got enough video of his soldiers trying to exit the vault with stolen property. You got them and they can't get out of it no matter whose influence they've bought."

Dick took in and let out another deep breath. "Buchis' daughter was in one of Minh's cars out front. He was planning on using her to get Buchis' to give him more information on other banks affiliated with Gotham Savings and Loan." Dick paused again before adding, "I'm just glad Buchis' came to his senses and put the gun down. I'm going to go crash, babe. The sun's starting to come up." He finished his beverage and started toward their bedroom.

"Dick." she said as she wheeled closer to him. "What happened eight months ago.you did everything you could. You have to move passed it."

"Hard to do that when Tommy Minh told me tonight he saw what happened. I know that I can't blame myself anymore, but I still feel remorse. I felt for Buchis tonight. I felt the same way for him that I did eight months ago. When a threat is that close to home."

".you do exactly what you did, Dick," she interrupted.

"Yeah.good night, sweetheart." He bent down and kissed her gently on the lips. He turned back toward their bedroom again, this time making it the whole way to the mattress. He was silently asleep within moments.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark Knight stood atop the highest point in Gotham City . He gazed down upon the city, having no fear of the immense height. This was his city now. He would do what was necessary. No longer would the criminals be allowed to roam free as informants or would government officials be allowed to keep their corrupt offices.

The man wearing Batman's cape and cowl balanced steadily at the peak of Milton Solution 's tower. He would begin his crusade in this very building. The CEO of this company was involved with insider trading. Batman's "source" had provided him what he needed to know. Joshua Milton would meet his end tonight, even if Batman had to break every bone in his body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce Wayne sat at a stainless steel desk in a dark room. Few people in the world knew where he was. The building's location was kept secret from even high-ranking government officials. Those he employed in his company thought he was still in Gotham . The truth, though, was that Bruce Wayne hadn't stepped one foot inside Gotham for months.

He had important things to attend to. The problems he faced now almost seemed to dwarf the problems he had faced before. Almost.

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Writer's Nest

That wraps up the first arc! Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Nightwing is one of my favorite characters of all time and I really like to think I do him justice in this series.

If you're curious about what the hell is going on with Bats and Bruce Wayne, I suggest you check out DCI 's JLA for the straight poop on the situation. I'll be building on it next month.

What else is in store for our good buddy Nightwing? He'll be busting heads, taking names, doing a little traveling, and taking on some serious heavy hitters. Send me feedback (please!) to h4hdave@yahoo.com.