|
#3
JUL 13 |
 |
“Starting Over”
“'Spoken but never repeated, my answer is another or offered in coin; Shy or outspoken, what I announce you are welcome to join.' And then, 'P.S. There is something explosive inside. Seriously.'“
“You keep repeating it, but I still don't hear you telling me what it means,” cursed Detective Whiting of the Bludhaven Police Department. He sat a little heavier on the hood of the car he had shared with his partner for going on thirteen years now, the stocky short man who was pacing before him. “So, how about *not* saying it *again* until you can also tell me what it means, hrm?”
Detective Drebben stalked to a stop and stared at the taped-off theater before him. It was one of the many in this downtown area, just off The Spine, that had failed to take off. It had fallen into disrepair, having last been used long before Drebben had even joined the force. This was the most action the place had seen since it opened. “First Blockbuster and then Nightwing, and now others...half of Gotham City is moving here, I tell ya' Hugh. Now the Riddler?”
“Not the Riddler,” a voice said from above the pair.
Nightwing swung down to land before them and gestured with his thumb to the note that had been plastered on the bordered up door of 'The Constellation.’ Before either of them could draw their weapons to protest his arrival he added, “Just here to help, gents.” The partners looked to one another, and Nightwing swore that Whiting looked ready to rush off at the sight of him, but the tall thin man just stroked his peppered mustache and stayed on the hood of the car.
“I thought so maybe too,” Nightwing turned to read the note, “When I first saw this. So I called Batman and he assured me that Riddler is...elsewhere.”
“Just called 'im up,” snorted Drebben who planted himself at Nightwing's side. “On the Batphone, I suppose?”
Nightwing smiled. “Something like that.”
Whiting now slid off the hood, though he kept a few paces back. “Who then? Some copycat? What was that guy's name...Cluemaster.”
“None of the above,” Nightwing moved closer. “Maybe someone else,” he mused aloud, though it *did* read like one of Eddie's old clues....
“Well, until we know what it means, no one goes inside,” Drebben cut in.
“Good,” Nightwing answered and swept under the 'DO NOT ENTER' tape. “The answer is 'debut' or 'greeting'.”
“All right, smart guy,” Whiting snapped as he came up to the tape, but did not cross it, and now stood beside his partner. “What about the lovely little 'P.S.'?”
Nightwing stepped up to the door and found it open. He looked back at the detectives. “I suppose I'll find out.” With that, he slipped inside.
It wasn't a surprise that neither of the men outside rushed in after him. If he did blow up, well, surely that would solve a number of problems for either man. Both cops were rumored to be dirty and for Bludhaven that was saying something. Each lived openly beyond his means supposedly courtesy of Blockbuster’s deep pockets. Other rumors indicated Drebben was a mob enforcer or that Whiting sold evidence during his stint in narcotics. Nightwing knew he'd have no meddling backup on this one.
Whatever the clue outside meant, it only lead to trouble.
It didn't take long to find. There in the middle of the abandoned stage was another note duct taped to the top of a cardboard box. The curtains had been drawn back and a spotlight lit up the offering. The backdrop was a cityscape hastily altered to resemble Bludhaven.
Nightwing checked out the note.
'Nightwing,
I am too much for anyone to bear but just enough for two, yet shared with three I am undone. What am I?'
He looked up from the box and scanned the dark rafters. The balcony was masked by musty cobwebs. He hadn't looked backstage yet, the temptation was too great. Nightwing knew he had an audience.
“A secret,” he gave.
“Very good.”
The voice was female, somewhere behind him.
“...good.”
On the stage?
“...good...”
At the fire exit on the left?
“...good...,” it was softer now.
That's when the box on the stage burst with a pop, nothing too grand, but it was enough that Nightwing jumped. Confetti rained down, sparkly and green. He stepped up onto the stage far less cautiously now, as experience told him that the show was over.
There, where the box had been, upon the smoking pedestal was another note and Nightwing read it aloud.
“You heard me before, yet now you hear me again. Then I die until you call upon me again.”
Nightwing turned and looked, but there was no one to be seen.
“An echo.”
“...thanks for helping me with the dishes, man. Kids, go out in the backyard and once we've cleaned up, we'll have ice cream, okay?” There was a loud round of cheers from Justin and Emma Rohrbach as they raced off to do as their father, Jim. He held the kitchen door open for his guest, Dick Grayson. Dick, the natural acrobat, was putting himself to the test as he balanced a whole stack of dirty plates and silverware from all of the diners in attendance, which included Dick and Babs as well as the entire Rohrbach clan. Once they were both behind the closing door, Jim spoke up again. “I appreciate the help. That has to be the most engaged I've seen you all evening.”
Dick cringed but unloaded his arms without incident and started to stuff things into the Rorhback's dishwasher.
“Sorry about that. Just a lot on my mind I guess.”
“A lot of that going around,” Jim sighed as he moved to help his guest, but then he sighed again. “Sorry, that wasn't right of me. It's just...”
“It hasn't been easy, I'm sure. She looks, well, beaten. I've never seen her so trampled.”
“It's one of her better days,” Jim offered though it was with an apologetic shrug. Ever since his wife, Dick's partner, had been attacked brutally resulting in a psychological break and the subsequent loss of her hand, he'd been alone in tending to her. “I don't mean to act like I want you to fix everything; I know it doesn't work that way. I thought seeing you, well...maybe that would stir her out of this.”
“Hey, it's okay,” Dick smiled thinly as he looked up from sorting the silverware. “I wouldn't have come over if I didn't think it might work too.”
“Well, I appreciate it. I know it's not an easy home to walk into right now. It's also kind of unfair to just leave your wife out there with mine. Think she'll be okay?”
“Which one? Amy or Babs?”
“She's that tough, is she?”
“Tougher,” Dick smiled.
“I used to think the same of Amy,” Jim frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked out the kitchen window to the yard beyond, where his children were running around playing together. “I mean, this city, seeing what I do at school and that's just teaching. What she's seen and dealt with on the streets...and I wanted to move when she was pregnant with Jus. 'If we can't make this work then who's to say we can make it work somewhere else' is what she said to me. Before you were made her partner, they offered her a job in Motor City, did you know that?”
Dick shook his head.
“She declined. 'Too much left undone here' she said. I think she feels guilty she di–”
That's when the kitchen door burst open and Barbara rolled in. “Richard Grayson, we're leaving. Now.”
Amy was right behind her, tears in her eyes and an angry look on her face. “You don't have a right to call me that!”
“Yes, I do,” Babs spat back and turned to face the upset woman. Amy cradled her handless arm to her chest defensively. “All night long, I had to deal with your looks. So, now that it's out there, that I called you *handicapped*,” she accented, “ask it.”
Amy shook her head, bitter and embarrassed and angry.
“Babs, what's going on?”
She ignored her husband for the moment, not looking at Dick as he asked but kept staring at Amy. “You want to know how I do it? Why I didn't end it all? Why I didn't cave? I know where you've been, worse e–”
“You *don't* know what it's like!” Amy fired back, even as Jim crossed the kitchen to her. She didn't react to his attempt to hug her, tears streamed down her cheeks. “It's different, it's *different*,” she flared. She held out her stump and shook as she was so angry. “This was the hand Jim used to hold when we took walks! I can't hold my children the same way anymore! I can't be a cop with *one hand*!”
“Because you're broken or because you're pathetic?”
“Babs!” Dick stood shocked and crossed to his wife, who just set her shoulders and met Amy's hurtful glare.
“Get out,” Amy bit though gritted teeth.
“Amy!” It was Jim's turn to look astounded.
“Gladly,” Babs replied and pushed her way past the angry Mrs. Rohrbach, though she stopped before she left. “Thank you, Jim, for having us over. It was lovely to have a good home cooked meal. I'm just sorry the atmosphere was so sour.”
Amy looked shocked and ready to either hit Babs or to at least yell something.
Babs beat her to it, however, and added. “It's never going to change, but it can get better. You just have to either find a way to let that happen or do so something about it. You're a smart woman, so stop acting so stupid. Your family deserves better…you deserve better.”
They all stood silent for a moment, but finally Amy managed a weak, “I said get out.”
“It's just something I wish someone would have said to me before I wasted so much time with my own pain,” Babs offered, soft and sure, but unwavering. She then bowed her chin, “Jim.” She turned. “Dick, I'll be in the car.” With that she left.
Before Babs was out of earshot, Amy looked to Dick, and her voice shook. “She has no right.”
Dick reached out and touched Amy's shoulder as Jim stood by, unsure. “No, she has every right. Just...just look around yourself, Amy. As bad as it seems, we're all still here. There's got to be a reason for it.”
Amy turned her head and collapsed into Jim's hold, silent now.
“I saw the letter.”
Amy remained hidden against Jim, though Jim looked perplexed. Dick ignored that and kept his focus on Amy's back.
“Even if you're not going to be my partner any more, then at least know this: you *do* deserve better.” He reached out and touched her shoulder, and was fortunate to find that she didn't pull away. Dick then gave Jim a polite nod and an apologetic smile and rushed off to catch up with his wife.
For a long moment Jim held Amy.
Finally, he asked, “You quit?” He let that hang, meaning more than he said as if to try and simplify it. “The force?”
Amy just pulled away, looking lost.
Jim nodded and kissed Amy's forehead. “I promised the kids ice cream.” It was all he could think to say.
“I'll...I'll get them,” Amy said, as that was all she could think to say. Before Jim could protest she turned to the back door.
On the way out Amy dried her eyes with hand and took several deep breaths to steady herself. She didn't get far before Justin and Emma came running up to her as they abandoned whatever game they were playing. Justin was six and Emma three, but Amy noticed by the set-up of their backyard equipment that the two must have been playing their favorite game, 'cops and cops'. Perhaps seeing her old partner had inspired them to return to the old classic.
That's when she noticed the bandana around each of their necks and her breath caught when she saw that they both had their left arm in a sling.
“We couldn't decide who was gonna' play mommy,” Justin said as he met his mother's shocked look with honesty.
Amy fell to her knees and gathered her children in for a hug, taking them in her arms.
“I thought you'd like to know that I got your note,” Nightwing said that night as he landed outside the old glue factory. It was just south of the Littleneck bridge, not far from Baily Church along the river. It had been shut down just over twenty years ago when the owning company dumped all of its waste straight into the Narrows. “'What runs and never walks, has a mouth but never eats?' along with 'Spread it to hold, steam it to break; Found in a bottle, no need to shake'. Come on now, that was easy.”
Facing him was a woman in a dapper green business suit with a black vest underneath, complete with a black domino mask covering her eyes. Her once-short black hair was now long, loose and free. In one hand she carried a briefcase covered in question marks. She was familiar to the vigilante as he knew her file. Her change of appearance and location was something he was hoping to find out about.
“How kind of you to drop by then, and to indulge in my little games. It's time we were properly introduced.”
“I know who you are, Nina.”
That caused her to smile. “It's Echo, just Echo,” she assured him.
“Once a sidekick to the Riddler. Where's your partner, Query?”
“We've...gone our separate ways.”
“With you moving into my town?”
“I'm sorry, I didn't realized it belonged to you. I thought someone else held onto that honor. No, but if you can seek to make a name for yourself here...”
“Then why can't you,” Nightwing answered.
“A rose by any other name, but yes, Boy Wonder. Gotham is a place for the old, and Bludhaven is for the new.”
“And just what do you plan to accomplish here?” Maybe if he kept her talking, play her like her 'mentor', then she might well just talk herself silly and this would be over quick.
“Why, the same thing as you, which is why I am afraid we will be at odds, you and I. Two forces can't occupy the same place at the same time. We both know the same thing cannot be in two places at once.”
There was something about her tone. Nightwing shifted and leaped at her, as he sensed that maybe this wasn't going to go like it would have with Riddler. He always wanted to impress and would explain himself, but this Echo, she seemed eager to keep things aloof. Good thing too, because no sooner did Nightwing leap away than the very spot he was standing on exploded with a *CRASH* as a heavy crate dropped.
“Well, let's not keep playing all night long. If we're going to do this, there are some rules after all, and the foremost of those is that I win. Sorry, just the way this goes.”
Nightwing vaulted through the air, somersaulting that into a kick aimed for Echo, though as he drew nearer he could see the edges of her figure wavered. As if she was...
“Unless you're a hologram,” Echo smiled sweetly as she vanished when Nightwing collided with her, and scattered the light-based image away.
Nightwing found himself stuck, as he had landed on some kind of pad, one with a powerful adhesive that held his boots firmly in place. He looked up at a whiiiirl-ing sound above him and this time a second object was dropped on him. An open-bottomed barrel. He had just enough time to duck before it too got stuck, sealed atop him.
From outside he could hear someone approaching and then the muffled voice of Nina Damfino, aka Echo. “What comes next will be another crate, and then that will be filled with concrete, the instant drying kind. Then you'll be shoved into the river. Goodbye, Nightwing, but I leave you with this.” She paused, and then spoke again, just before the crate was lowered.
“What can't be sung but has a tune; Will be mine when returns the moon; What from where, winding rivers rose; With men to train, to be your woes.”
A moment later there was a soft *tap*tap* on the crate and then the concrete sloshed in. Nightwing knew he was now trapped, and his air supply was only going to get lower. Yet, he had to wait. Three minutes later he felt himself tipping and he counted himself fortunate that his deathtrap was shoved into the Narrows.
He sank, almost dizzyingly fast. Now suspended upside down in his intended coffin, Nightwing didn't wait for his trip to end. Inverted, squished in a barrel encased in solid concrete headed toward the bottom of a river, he wasn't going to allow this to become his coffin despite it being meant he should die in here.
Nightwing had other plans. Echo's trap had an obvious weak spot.
Quickly he retrieved his re-breather and next emptied the ankle cuffs of all their contents, letting them litter the 'top' of the barrel now below him. Then slipped out of his boots, as they were stuck and not going anywhere and thanks to his superior flexibility was able to turn around, now standing on the tools of his trade. His mind wasn't on those however as instead next his top to his costume came off and into it he packed several explosive pellets from an arm cuff compartment. That he slapped to the space between his boots to allow the package to stick there. He then counted to two.
There was a *POP* and then the sudden rush of water, as the adhesive section had none of that additional encasement around it and was now blown away. Pounded by the rush of water, it was all Nightwing could to do to remain conscious and he had to bite down on his re-breather hard to keep it. The water of the Narrows was freezing cold and stung bitterly. Barefoot and bare-chested he clawed and kicked, speeding for the surface.
When he broke it, Echo was long gone, and Nightwing was ready for chilly swing home to get warm.
“Whoa! You can't come in!”
“Why not?” Dick smiled and gestured about. “This is a public library, isn't it?”
The wiry old black man stood up to block him, looking unimpressed. “Libraries are for readers and you apparently can’t. There was a sign out front.”
“You mean the 'Sorry, closed for renovations for a month'? That one?” Dick smiled politely despite the scolding. “Well, trouble is, I know the lady who is behind it. Even worse than that,” he held up the bags he had entered with, “is I brought enough lunch for everyone. So, if you'd rather I just left...”
The old man was about to respond when he was cut off from behind. “It's okay Larry, he's with me.”
Dick sidestepped Larry setting the bags on a table and leaned in to kiss his wife. “There you are. Missed you.”
Babs gave Dick a little nod and turned her attention back to Larry. “Dick, this is Larry North. He’s been in Bludhaven his whole life, he tells me. Larry, this is my husband, Dick Grayson.”
Larry squinted for a moment, looking up from the lunch bags. “I know you,” he nodded. “All over the news. Took down Blockbuster.”
“Something like that,” Dick rubbed the back of his neck. Before Larry could continue, Dick asked, “So you work here? You're okay with Babs just strutting in here and taking charge like she has?” Babs kept quiet.
“No. Been a patron since before Scrabble was a game. I got history. Last time Bookhaven saw a new book was ten years.”
“You didn't mention that before, Larry,” Babs looked up from the lunch bags she had been investigating. “About it being so long since anything new came in. I'd believe it though. Dick, most of the shelves are just bare. Larry says most were taken out and never returned, used for burning for heat, before they put a stop to it.”
Larry nodded solemnly and looked pointedly at Babs as he spoke. “Public service in the Haven ends when the press coverage does. Everyone quits.”
“That's not going to happen,” Babs promised.
“Besides, we're the kind of people that tend to shy away from being in the papers,” Dick added with a charming grin.
Larry snorted indignantly and scratched his scalp between two of his grey braids before giving Dick a sly smile. “Your headlines lasted weeks.”
Barbara coughed. “Larry, why don't you see if Nadia's hungry? She's back in the office. I'm sure she is as she's been here for days. I'm sure Dick brought good stuff.”
“Karstoki’s,” Dick offered. “The sandwich place up by the precinct. Best deli in town.”
Larry shrugged. “S’alright,” He left without offering his own opinion of the best deli, offering Babs a nod.
Dick waited until he was gone. “Nadia? Hopefully she's friendlier.”
“Younger and prettier too, but arguably tougher.” Babs smiled as Dick turned and one eyebrow rose. “She's been through a lot. You'd like her. She escaped Vlatava. She's the only person I've met in this city who, so far, prefers it here.”
“Well, that is someone I'd like to meet.”
“You will.” Babs glanced up to Dick then scanned over the ruined library. Most of the tables were missing and there wasn't a computer terminal in sight. Windows were boarded up because the glass had been broken long ago. The tiled floor was broken in several places and a terrible draft would course through every few minutes. The whole back section was dark, the few working lights and bulbs had been moved up to the front section of the library.
“I can see that. You're going to be here for a while.”
Babs nodded determinedly. “I still need to return to the Clocktower tomorrow, and now that our lovely little dinner is over, I need to get that done.”
“Listen, about that,” Dick began. Babs held up her hand to silence him but Dick ignored it. “I thought about it, a lot and, well, I don't regret any of it. If anything, I should have said more.”
“Its likely shock more than anything,” Babs had to admit. “By all accounts, she was really good at her job, and so then to have something so random just happen to her like that...trust me, I know how it feels to know you're the victim. That despite how much you have it together, how prepared you think you are, that it can all change. How it can ruin you, because everything you thought you knew is taken from you.”
“She'll get over it?”
“I did.”
Dick nodded and reached for Babs' hand, giving it a squeeze. He was silent for a moment, but then looked up once more. “And now Bookhaven, huh? You really are a glutton for punishment, aren't you?”
Babs squeezed Dick's hand. “There's no funding, no donors, no support. It's going to be building from the ground up. I called Gotham's Public and they pretty much just laughed when I requested help. Fortunately, I'm a resourceful girl.”
“The resourcefulliest,” Dick confirmed with a nod.
“Not a word,” Babs had to chuckle a little. “I can do this.”
“You already have a plan in place?”
“Just one?”
“Okay, okay. Foolish question,” Dick admitted as he crossed to a shelf to examine the books stacked there. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I'll let you know when I need you on this.” Barbara looked at him, waiting to catch his eye, to make sure he understood what she was saying.
It took him a moment, but he nodded. “This is your fight. Hey, I've got my own battles too.”
“So I heard,” Babs settled back in her chair as she spoke to Dick. “You came home without your shirt on. Should I be worried?”
Dick shook his head. “I don't think so, but maybe. As Riddler's sidekick, she was pretty much always the easy punch, someone firing the gun, and not very well. Now that she's out of Eddie's shadow, she seems more...well, dangerous.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.”
“She kind of said something along the same lines, actually. She said that she was out to prove herself too,” Dick shared.
“By taking on Nightwing. Safer than taking on the Bat, I guess?”
“Hey!”
“Just ruffling your feathers, Robin,” Babs smiled though she was serious in the next moment. “I should be asking you if I can help you.”
“Actually, yeah. Anything and everything you can pull up on Nina Damfino would be great.”
“Since you ask so nicely,” Babs grinned and pulled her laptop from the side pouch on her wheelchair. She made several rapid, practiced keystrokes and then turned the device to Dick, displaying everything she had on 'Echo'. Since this was Oracle giving it to him, well, it was everything. Babs was about to add something else when she saw someone enter the library. “Aaron, you made it!”
“Barbara, Dick,” Aaron Helzinger waved to both as he squeezed through the doorway. “Yeah, I just followed the directions you printed off for me. I've never been here before, so it took a bit to find it. Sorry I'm late, but...work,” he shrugged.
Dick looked up and had to laugh, light and polite. “I did warn you she was quite the taskmaster,” he said as he waved. “I saw what you did with the front of our building. The ramp looks great.”
“Works even better,” Babs smiled as she left Dick and her laptop to go collect Aaron, but she looked back. “You, get back to reading. And you,” she wheeled past Aaron, “you're with me.”
They arrived just as he knew they would.
The men in black suits, ties, shoes and gloves wore black masks showing only eye-holes and a large emerald '?' over the center of their faces. There were four of them, each armed with an assault rifle, and worked well in unison. Either they had rehearsed the heist or they had prior team experience. Two stayed wide to provide cover while the other two performed the actual robbery. They had arrived and acted all in under ten seconds, and had even left their van running, though kept it in their field of coverage, to ensure their escape. It was the opening night of 'The Lunar Exchange', an exhibition of local animators presenting their work at the mini-festival at Jazzy Toons, a posh theatre at the south end of The Spine. They were after the box office draw, biggest Bludhaven had seen in years, and even now the two in the middle began to storm the central office.
Nightwing kept watch from his perch across the street. The patrons scattered in a panic and he knew his sudden appearance would not ease things.
“Got it,” one of the centers announced as he stormed back out, a hefty bag in one hand. His partner was right behind him, both hands laden with bags of his own. The two who remained spread on either side of the theatre moved forward. “With a minute to spare, too. Ride will be here in –!”
That was when Nightwing swung down. “Sorry guys, but the show's over.” He didn't wait for a reply as he tossed a pair of Nightarangs, each a bolo that found one of two with the sacks of cash. Their pinned arms allowed Nightwing to take advantage of them. He bounded forward, knocking their heads together. “Maybe if we get this cleared up quickly enough, everyone can get back to their show.”
“I don't think so!” The man to his left spat angrily as he charged forward as he fired on Nightwing.
The vigilante sprung backward then jumped and spun, dodging a second burst of fire. “Enough of that,” Nightwing snapped and tossed an eskrima stick. It took the man in the legs and tripped him up.
Nightwing was forward in less than a second his other stick sending the gun flying. The thug got to his feet quickly and powered through with a punch to the hero's stomach and Nightwing stumbled backward.
“Well, you're better than the other two.”
The ?-masked thug just grunted approvingly and put up his dukes. Over the large man's shoulder, Nightwing saw that the fourth thug had run off toward the still-running van the men had pulled up in. He'd have to end this quickly if he hoped to catch the last guy.
Nightwing ducked one punch and back-stepped away from another to find his opponent expertly spinning away from his own punch. Next Nightwing tried a kick but that was blocked, and then a low roundhouse that the suited man just jumped over. This had become frustrating.
When the man punched again, Nightwing spun *toward* his foe, and missed the blow. In close, his elbow smashed out to take the man in the gut, which sent the skilled thug onto his back groaning. Nightwing wasted no time and sprinted forward to try to reach the van before it peeled away.
Only the thug ran past it, headed toward the terminal of the Blue Line's elevated platform just as the train was pulling into the station.
Train! That was it!
Nightwing let the guy go since he knew the destination. Quickly, he turned and fired off a zip line to the north. If he was quick enough, he could catch his train, which wasn't the Blue Line.
The would-be theater-robber had tossed his gun into the van and now that he was on the train, took off his mask and tried to blend in. He was nervous, expecting Nightwing to appear and pounce on him any minute, but when the crime fighter didn't show after a couple of minutes he calmed down. All he could do was to wait for his stop.
The Port Authority Bus Terminal with platforms for both the Blue Line and Red Lines, north and south, met atop the bus station on the ground level. Holding his breath, he stepped off the train empty-handed and alone to find his boss sitting on the bench that faced both his exit and that of the Red Line South which had just pulled up. “Sorry it was Nigh-...!”
With the Red Line South at a stop, the doors opened and there stood Nightwing, the suited-and-?-masked men that had been on that train at his feet. Before the lone thug from the Blue Line could move, Nightwing took advantage of the stunned man's moment of surprise and hurled a blunted Nightarang that took the man in the forehead to render him unconscious.
“Good evening,” Nightwing offered as he stepped off the train to join the still seated woman. He walked up to her and in greeting said, “Echo.”
She met him with a smile and calmly raised both of her hands to Nightwing, her wrists offered up. “Well done.”
Nightwing regarded her for a moment but then fished out a pair of Batcuffs. He slapped them on her hands as she moved to stand. “I figured that the Rosewater Bank might be better equipped to take on a robbery.”
“As I thought too,” Echo replied, her bound hands now lowered as she offered no resistance. Nightwing let her stand there then as they spoke. You did admirably.”
“Thanks, I think?” Nightwing looked at his captive, clearly puzzled. “I have to admit, the last line took me the longest. It didn't make sense to me that you would have to train anyone, as that doesn't seem your style, so that didn't fall into place until that one made a run for it,” he gestured to the unmasked thug unconscious on the Blue Line platform.
“The last line was my favorite.”
“Which part? 'Two be your woes'? Well done, giving that verbally.”
“Thanks.” Here Echo smiled.
“So,” Nightwing said as he reached for her cuffs. “You've had your fun, and now time to go.”
Echo shrugged off the grab, and raised her wrists to examine the slim watch beneath the cuffs. “After all this? Surely you can spare a minute to find out what this was all for.”
Nightwing considered. “You said it before, that you are out to prove yourself too, to get out from under Riddler's shadow. To form your own identity.”
“Did I say all that?”
Nightwing narrowed his eyes.
Echo nodded. “Perhaps. Well, yes, in truth, that is the most of it. However, I also wished to gauge my opponent. You had to be tested.”
“And I passed, you failed.”
“Or I accomplished what I set out to do.”
“If that's how you want to sell it to yourself,” Nightwing sighed. “Pulling two crimes at once, that's...cute, but both failed to return to you a tune that can't be sung.”
Echo just smiled.
Nightwing sighed again. “Well, test time is over regardless. Now, it's jail time.”
“Oh, I don't think so.”
“Pardon me, but I know so.” He once more reached for the Batcuffs and grabbed them.
“You don't know everything, Little Bird, and least of all, you don't know anything about me.” Before Nightwing could retort, Echo's foot expertly shot upward, extending in a forceful and flexible kick that caught the crime fighter right in the jaw. As his jaw snapped up, Echo followed her kick with a shoulder to Nightwing's chest, sending him back as he released the cuffs.
Just then the Red Line North was barreling into the station, and with the sight of a skirmish on the platforms, it maintained speed with the intent to speed past. Echo turned from Nightwing and ran to meet the train.
She looked back and called, “Nightwing, until next time,” and then she jumped.
“Nina, no!” Nightwing only had time to look up as she disappeared before the on-rushing train.
“Goodbye.”
“...bye...”
And then it faded out with the Red Line North as it sped away from the terminal.
“......bye....”
Epilogue
Nightwing had examined the Red Line North train and found nothing of Nina Damfino sprayed over it, nor was a body recovered.
Two nights later however, Nightwing returned to the Jazzy Toons theatre. There among the poster covered bulletin board was a note for him. It read: 'You heard me before, yet now you hear me again. Then I die until you call upon me again.'
|
|
|
To Be Continued...
Previous Issue | Next Issue