Nightwing

Tim Fencik loved his job most days. Tim was a member of the Bludhaven Police Department, and it was his job to make certain Mr. Desmond’s men were well taken care of if they ever found themselves in trouble with the law. Mr. Desmond was also known as Blockbuster and was the biggest crime boss on the East Coast. Tim made certain that each man under his care was totally free of harassment by the Bludhaven PD. Usually this was a whole lot easier than right now.

Before Officer Fencik was a member of Mr. Desmond’s group known as Brutale. Brutale was a violent killer who used various blades and knives to carve people new holes in their bodies, only Brutale wasn’t in trouble with the police, currently he was in a knockdown dragout slugfest with a costumed fellow that Fencik had heard called Nightwing. Of course slugfest may have been an unfair term, as in reality; Nightwing was kicking the stuffing out of Brutale after the assassin just tried to kill Judge Jillian Regan as she walked to the parking garage in front of the Bludhaven Courts Building.

Nightwing jumped high in the air and spun, his right foot kicking Brutale in the face like a hammer. Fencik could almost feel the teeth loosen in Brutale’s mouth. A right hook, a front kick, and another right and Brutale went flying to the concrete. It was over unless Fencik did something, he raised his gun and aimed towards Nightwing’s head. Tim summoned his courage and yelled, “FREEZE! BLUDHAVEN PD! BACK AWAY FROM THAT…MAN! DO IT NOW OR I WILL FIRE!”

Nightwing spun around and after taking in the body language of the cop he decided the young policeman was too scared to fire, “Calm down” he said. “This man’s a killer, and I was stopping him. I’m one of the good guys here.”

Brutale raised himself to his feet and went for one of his many throwing knives. Nightwing raced at Brutale and tackled him to the ground. Brutale’s blade slashed at Nightwing’s side and they rolled into the parking garage. Got to end this quickly, thought Nightwing. As he rose to his feet, Brutale was also getting up, Nightwing charged and kicked Brutale so hard he flipped over a parked car and landed on his back with a loud “CLAP” noise. Nightwing stayed to the shadows as the police rushed in, a shaken but safe Judge Regan was led to safety and cuffs were placed on an unconscious Brutale.

Oh boy, thought Fencik. Blockbuster is gonna be pissed.

“Totally unacceptable! How does he do it? Seven of the last 12 assassination attempts have been interrupted by the Batman’s young protégé! What will it take to get rid of his interference once and for all?” Roland Desmond was as much talking to himself as he was to the beautiful English woman sipping wine. Lady Vic liked it when Roland Desmond would get this flustered. He always tried to put on the image of a refined gentleman, a 9-foot beast that can twist a man’s head backwards killing him instantly, but a refined gentleman nonetheless.

“Perhaps your best course of action would be to simply buy the young man’s services,” she spoke. “I doubt he will take your offer, but you never know, if the price is right and certain other things are promised,” she traced her wine glass with her fingers and smiled at Desmond.

“No,” he said. “He will not leave my affairs alone until he is dead, and every time I use one of my assassins to try and eliminate him he sends them back to me via the hospital, yourself included Lady Vic. Usually metahumans are too expensive to bring in for a job like this, but he is already costing me millions, so I think it is time I got my money’s worth my dear. I will use my agents to inform the metahuman underworld that the one who brings me the head of our young Nightwing will receive not only recognition as the man who killed the Batman’s apprentice, but he will also be given ten million dollars!”

Two Days Later

“TEN MILLION DOLLARS!” The muscle bound cowboy named Stallion was beside himself with glee. “I’ve taken on Nightwing before, and he ain’t no ten million dollar hit! Blockbuster’s crazy!” Stallion threw back his whiskey and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Stallion had been one of Blockbuster’s assassins in the past, and it always paid great, but ten million? To his left sat his sometime partner Brutale. Brutale was just bailed out from jail by Blockbuster’s very high priced attorneys and he had a dental appointment in two days to fix three missing teeth, an injury he incurred at the hands of Nightwing. “Why I’ll take Blockie’s money, but he’s a fool to part with it.”

“I don’t think it will be that easy,” was all Brutale had said on the subject all day. He had no desire to talk about, look at, or even think about Nightwing. Besides he had a dentist appointment and he hated dentists, at least that would explain why he killed the last three he went to see. “I don’t think it will be that easy at all. Besides, haven’t you heard who is in town?”

“Who,” Stallion asked. “Someone famous?” He imagined Cheshire coming to town to slice up Nightwing with those funny claws of hers, yeah, he thought, Cheshire would be fun to have around. Or maybe Catwoman, with her purple bodysuit. God, he loved purple bodysuits. Or maybe Killer Frost, that was fine woman, too bad no one could touch her, or maybe…

“Deadshot.”

“What? Who?” Stallion woke from his daydreaming. “THE Deadshot?”

“The same.” Brutale picked at his mouth and threw done a shot of Tequila. “Looks like we’re out of the picture amigo.” And Brutale honestly couldn’t have been happier.

Dick Grayson’s alarm clock went off early, way too early if you’re the masked vigilante known as Nightwing by night and a rookie police officer on the Bludhaven police force during the day. Not to mention you headed to Gotham City every week to see you girlfriend Barbara Gordon. Yep, waaayyy too early. But after a quick shower he headed to the station and after suiting up he met his partner Officer Amy Rohrbach in the briefing room.

Amy was a great cop, and Dick was glad he hadn’t been saddled with a veteran who liked to have the rookie keep making donut runs. “Grayson,” Amy yelled, “grab the coffee and get your butt in here.” Nope, Amy wasn’t like that at all; she didn’t even like donuts.

Dick passed Amy her coffee and after talking for a few they looked over a letter that was present at everyone’s table. “What the hell,” Amy said. “If I am reading this right it looks like a reward offer for killing someone! What the hell is going on here?” She passed the letter to Dick and as the sergeant on duty walked in to begin the briefing she stood and asked, “Sir, what is the exact meaning of this letter? It appears as if we are being told we can kill someone and be rewarded for it, like a bounty.”

“Amy,” the sergeant began, “the intent of this letter is to inform you of info we have received from of our stoolies on the street. Our costumed friend, this Nightwing, supposedly upset the wrong people, and those people want it known that they are willing to pay a small fortune to have this guy offed. What that means is we probably will have a city full of idiots shooting at anything in the shadows, so be on your toes people.”

City full of idiots, Dick thought. He turned his head towards Jansen and Morretti, they had big smiles on their faces and he could already overhear their plans to cash in on the bounty. Great, not only do I have every hitman in the known universe probably coming after me, but now the cops will be taking pot shots as well. And there’s only one guy I know of that would promise that kind of swag and that’s Blockbuster. He looked around the office and he could see that almost all of the cops sitting with him were thinking about what they could do with a small fortune, a fortune for killing one guy.

Tim Fencik was thinking about it too. Except he was thinking he already could have taken the shot that killed Nightwing just the other day, but he didn’t. No, not didn’t, couldn’t. This guy was out there stopping people from killing. “I’m one of the good guys.” That was what Nightwing said to him, as if he was another cop on the force. He couldn’t shoot him, hell, he never really shot anyone yet, the most illegal thing he had done till now was look the other way when a known criminal made good his escape. The pay was good, better than cop pay, but damn, Nightwing wasn’t even getting paid to do this and he was out there risking his life every night. How could he kill a “good guy” like that?

Dick’s shift was finally over and after getting a quick two hours shut eye he suited up for his “night job.” Swinging from his jumpline, his mind raced at wondering where the assassins would come from, and how was he going to stop them all. The first question was answered in minutes. A spear severed his jumpline in mid air; Nightwing tucked himself in and somersaulted to the nearest rooftop. The landing was far from his most graceful, but any landing you can walk away from. He took cover behind a large air conditioning unit and quickly took survey of the area. Then he saw him. “Spear,” he said. “Haven’t seen you since the Vigilante case with the Titans.”

Spear landed on the roof, a large black man with a mohawk. He was the spitting image of a young Mr. T, minus all the jewelry. “You are worth a lot of money Nightwing, and…

Nightwing didn’t even need to hear those last words, in truth he had probably heard them all a hundred times, and he wasted no time with Spear. A dropkick to the shoulder caused him to drop his weapon to the roof. Dick hopped to his feet and dodged a haymaker, he then elbowed Spear in the nose and grabbed him by the mohawk, then he jammed Spear’s face into his knee about five or six times. Spear barely let out a groan as he dropped to the rooftop. Dick tied him up and used his radio to make an anonymous phone call to 911 to give Spear’s description and location.

Three rooftops away, another individual was watching Nightwing. He watched him through the telescopic lens in his mask that helped target his wrist gauntlet guns. Guns that used hollow point “cop killer” bullets. Bullets were expensive, and that meant he had to take big contracts. Like the one on Nightwing’s head. Deadshot barely moved as he watched Nightwing dispatch Spear with ease. He followed his every move, and watched him leave the roof with another jumpline.

“Bang, you’re dead,” and Deadshot’s gun fired.

Spear never knew what hit him. Having been tied up by Nightwing, he wasn’t even able to hold the wound that appeared in his chest. Slowly the life left his body, and he never even knew who shot him. One less idiot in my way, Deadshot thought. Now let’s see about collecting my money.

Officer Tim Fencik radioed in to dispatch. He requested a CSI unit and an ambulance, the anonymous phone call had led him to Spear’s position, but it never said anything about him being dead. Morretti and Jansen were also there; they found the whole thing about as interesting as doing taxes. They were more interested in trying to comb the city for Nightwing. “Man, when I collect that bounty on the vigilante’s head I am headed straight for Bermuda. I’ll be taking it easy the rest of my life man. Course I won’t forget my old friend Jansen.”

Morretti talked with such ease and confidence that Tim almost became sick. They joked back and forth about how all they needed was one clear shot and the guy was dead. Yeah, one clear shot, thought Tim. I already had that opportunity, and it’s not as easy as you might think He looked over as Morretti and Jansen argued over who would do paperwork while the other took their payoff from a heroin dealer down on 3rd Street. Or maybe it’s only difficult if you still have a soul.

It was going to be a long night, thought Nightwing. After dispatching Spear he had headed over to the docks, where numerous members of Bludhaven’s residents liked to pick up their nightly addiction. Instead of drug deals he found himself in a fight for his life with the villain known as Trident.

Trident was once a mob enforcer/hitman, course the Trident that Nightwing had known was dead, and this new guy had been in the game for about a year and what he lacked in experience he more than made up for in zeal. The purple and gold garbed Trident wielded his weapon with as much gusto as Nightwing had ever seen. Ten million dollars will do that to you he thought.

The golden weapon let loose a zig zagging arch of red light that exploded the crates Nightwing had used for cover. Dick came out of a roll and threw three of his throwing darts at Trident. The shuriken struck Trident in the left forearm and bicep. Blood trickled from the wounds and Trident squealed in pain, “You bastard, before this was just about money, now I’m going to burn your damn eyes out of their sockets!” The trident let loose a blue bolt headed at Nightwing, it missed but turned a telephone pole into ice.

Nightwing was moving faster than Trident thought possible. This guy isn’t even a real super hero, thought Trident, he doesn’t have any super powers, I can beat him.

Nightwing was getting tired. All the dodging was starting to take its toll on him. His shuriken had penetrated Trident’s suit, but the energy blasts made it nearly impossible to get close to him. He looked out from behind the barrel of fish waste he was using for cover. Trident was searching the corners of the nearby buildings, which meant Dick had lost him for the time being. Looking over Trident’s head he saw one of the cranes that were used to bring fish from the ships to the dock. The crane’s net was about 20 feet in the air and about 50 feet ahead of Trident. Too easy, thought Dick. He looked down to his boot and grabbed one of his batarangs, he stood in preparation to throw, and saw Trident face first on the ground. “What the?” he said. He cautiously crept out from behind the barrel and walked toward Trident. There was a small pool of blood forming around Trident’s head and as Dick got closer he saw the entry wound in the back of his neck. Dick quickly turned him over and pulled off the villain’s mask, he was dead. Nightwing surveyed the area, both ground and rooftops, he saw no one. “What the Hell is going on now?” he said.

Deadshot took a bite of his apple. He was very pleased with himself, the shot had been tough, for most it would have been impossible, but that’s how he earned his name. Trident had to be one of the dumbest looking mercenaries he had ever seen, and he was surprised Nightwing had wasted so much time on him in the first place. The action had slowed down so much that he just had to end the whole thing. Counting the three hoods he had wasted for info when he first came to town that brought his total kill up to five. That was five expensive bullets he had to replace.

He could have shot Nightwing several times by now, but he held off. He knew that collecting a bounty could be a difficult prospect. You have to shoot the victim, drag his body all the way back to the guy paying for him, get the backseat of your car all bloody, and sometimes, even after the job was done, you had to “persuade” the contractor to pay up in full. No, not this time. Deadshot knew it was only a matter of time before Nightwing confronted Blockbuster, and then Deadshot would make his play. With the body falling at Blockbuster’s feet Deadshot’s payment was guaranteed. And his car stayed clean.

Two rooftops away, two individuals took in the scene with great interest. One was a tall man wearing a cape and floating just off the roof, the other was a goateed man holding a long bow. They spoke to each other in soft, deliberate tones. “That was quite a shot,” said the caped figure.

The bowman stood and measured the distance with his bow held up as if firing an imaginary arrow, “I could have made it,” he said. “Deadshot is an expert, but he’s getting sloppy. He should have taken out Nightwing by now. It’s gonna cost him a lot of money when we’re through with Blockbuster.” The two men left the rooftop, with evil intentions in mind.

“Dick this is unbelievable! Let me call in some friends to help you.” Oracle said. She had been worried sick ever since news of the bounty started making the rounds on the Internet. Dick was doing his best to calm her, but she only wanted him safe. “You know I can have Bruce or Roy and Wally there in minutes, let us help.”

Dick sighed; this had been going on for an hour. “Listen Babs, I don’t need their help at this time, this isn’t the first time someone has wanted me dead. It’s just more public now than usual. What I really need is to get some sleep, but if it will help you feel better I will check in with you tonight at regular intervals. Besides, after I have a talk with Roland Desmond, things may settle down.” Barbara signed off and Dick slept.

Tim Fencik stared at the body of Trident for what seemed like hours. Everytime he blinked he thought they would go away, but they were still there, three throwing darts, all of them shaped like that symbol of blue on Nightwing’s chest. His throwing darts. It was adding up now, first this Spear guy and now Trident, they were after Nightwing and the bounty, and Nightwing was killing them.

Tim was feeling sick to his stomach, not at the site of the body, but at the words he had heard Nightwing say to him, “I’m one of the good guys.” Good guys that tie people up and shoot them, or good guys who shoot other people in the back of the neck?

Jansen stood behind him; Morretti was stuck filling out paperwork. “See what I mean,” Jansen started, “this Nightwing guy is leaving a damn trail of bodies from here to Gotham. We kill him and we save the Bludhaven PD a boatload of paperwork, right Timmy? Come on man you’re on board right?”

Tim Fencik looked Jansen in the face, and slowly he said, “Why not, after all, we’re the good guys.”

Roland Desmond clenched his fists; he tried as best he could to control his temper. Lady Vic was reading the police report that was faxed to Desmond’s house. It detailed the deaths of two costumed bounty hunters; Trident and another called Spear. Both had one gun shot wound, and Nightwing had definitely encountered both assassins, his weapons were found at the scene of one of the murders. “It’s not him”, Desmond said. “The Batman’s partner would never kill, even if his life were on the line he would make every effort to incapacitate his opponent without killing him. Someone else is responsible for eliminating those after Nightwing, someone who wants Nightwing all to themselves.”

Lady Vic set down the paper and spoke, “We have also heard that both Captain Cold and the duo of Punch and Jewelee have left town, once word of the killings started spreading interest in the bounty began to lessen. Our informants also say that there are less Bludhaven police officers after the reward after seeing the fate of the other assassins.” Blockbuster turned red in the face. “On an unrelated note, Eddie Fingers was shot through the eye with an arrow, and his partner in the “numbers” business, Mickey Shins, splattered his face on Mervyn and 6th Street after falling out of his 5th story office window. Oddly enough, the office was demolished and it seems as if Mickey vomited several times before falling to his death.”

Blockbuster fought to keep himself composed, “Elaine, I want you to find the archer who dispatched young Eddie, find him and bring him to me alive. As for our young Nightwing and his overprotective guardian angel, I am certain we will be meeting with them both very soon.”

Dick Grayson was getting ready to head to his Bludhaven PD patrol car when he stumbled upon Jansen, Morretti, and Fencik talking about their evening plans. They spoke about meeting up after their shift was over tonight and heading down to the docks. If they were unable to pick up Nightwing’s trail from there they planned on trying to stage a mugging somewhere in the red light district, maybe that would flush him out. Fencik seemed to be a thousand miles away; Morretti elbowed him and brought him back to reality. The three finalized their plans to meet and were off. Dick shook his head, Jansen and Morretti were scum, but he though Fencik could be one of the good ones.

Dick went to Amy’s desk and on it saw a report that proclaimed Nightwing was the number one suspect in the deaths of the super villains Spear and Trident. Dick knew about Trident's death, but Spear was alive when he left him tied on the roof. After reading the reports on Spear's death, Dick was determined to have this bounty business ended tonight and the real killer brought to justice.

Lady Vic had combed the entire office of Mickey Shins and still couldn’t find a clue to lead her to his killer. Suddenly the room around her started to spin, she felt lightheaded and could barely hold her family’s samurai sword. She fell to her knees and though she fought it as best she could she became violently ill. Then as the wave of nausea passed she looked up and there coming in through the door were two men, one wore black and carried bow, the other a green garbed and caped figure.

“Allow me to introduce ourselves”, the caped man said, “ my associate’s name is Merlyn, and I am Count Werner Vertigo of Vlatava, you may just call me Count Vertigo. Now Lady Vic, we would like to meet your employer, so if you would be so kind as to pick yourself up and lead the way we would appreciate it very much.”

Dick’s shift was finally over, tonight he was going to finish this business with Blockbuster, and tonight the killings would stop. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop, his acrobatic skills always came in handy when traveling through Bludhaven, he left his car behind, he would be coming in quiet, and the car wasn’t built for that. Passing through the Red Light District he spotted Morretti and Jansen hiding behind a dumpster. No sign of Fencik, maybe he gave up the bounty hunter business, good for him thought Dick. He continued out of the bustle of the inner city to the home of Roland Desmond.

Tim Fencik radioed Morretti and Jansen that Nightwing was past their position, he was in pursuit. He followed Nightwing to the outskirts of the city and stopped his car; he realized where Nightwing was headed. He radioed Jansen and said, “He’s going to Blockbuster’s house.”

Jansen and Morretti radioed back, “Jackpot, we kill Nightwing right in front of Blockbuster and we may even get a bonus, hang on Timmy, we’ll be there in a minute.”

Great, thought Tim sarcastically, we can finally kill someone. His stomach made a loud noise and cramped, his hands were sweating on the steering wheel, just what I always wanted.

Nightwing found the muscle at Blockbuster’s home to be oddly absent. There must be something big going down if most of his guys are busy elsewhere. He looked over his shoulder again; just to be sure he wasn’t followed. Still, even though he saw no one, he felt like he was being tracked ever since he left the city lights. He opened a window on Desmond’s second floor and went inside.

Blockbuster was in his library reading The Art of War for the tenth time when he heard the footsteps. He raised out of his seat and saw Nightwing enter into the light. “Hey Rollie, nice place you got here, built to look similar to the old homestead huh? Anyway you and I need to work things out, like this whole bounty business, and why you are killing your own assassins.”

Blockbuster crossed his arms, “Are you accusing me of an illegal undertaking sir? You should speak to my attorney about such matters, as you will find I have no knowledge of any such doings. However the gentleman behind you may know what you are speaking about.”

Nightwing didn’t even look; he tumbled to the right and flipped Blockbuster’s desk over for cover. Four silent bullets busted through the wood. Through one of the bullet holes Nightwing could see the gunman, “Deadshot, you’re the one who killed Trident and Spear!”

Deadshot tried to aim to where the voice came from, Nightwing stood and threw two throwing darts, Deadshot dodged one but took the second in the left arm. He fired with his right wrist gun. Another miss. Suddenly Nightwing was on the move and Deadshot was firing like a madman. Blockbuster sought whatever cover he could find. Then the room exploded in shouts as three more people entered.

“Nobody move!” yelled Morretti. The three police officers entered the room in textbook style, Morretti first, Jansen on his right and Fencik bringing up the rear. They saw Deadshot, Nightwing, and Blockbuster. They had him, they had Nightwing dead to rights, they just had to kill him before Deadshot. "You’re dead pal!” Morretti said to Nightwing and guns exploded across the room.

Suddenly the window to the library crashed inward as Lady Vic smashed into the floor. She looked like she was going to be sick.

Merlyn leapt through the broken window and fired an arrow that pierced Morretti’s heart and he went down immediately. The rest of the room’s occupants all turned their attention on Merlyn and they quickly felt like the room began to move around them. Jansen started to vomit, Nightwing could barely keep his feet, and Blockbuster steadied himself against his bookcase. Then Count Vertigo glided in through the window, “Good evening Roland, I am afraid for you that I have decided that Bludhaven should be mine. So I have come to replace you as the city’s power, and I’m afraid that there is nothing you can do about it.”

“Never!” cried out Blockbuster, “European trash such as you are not fit to lead, I will kill you with my bare hands!” Blockbuster lunged and Merlyn fired an exploding arrow at him. Blockbuster’s shirt caught fire, and he tore it off, then Count Vertigo used his powers to set the room upside down on Blockbuster.

So who do I help? Thought Nightwing.

The answer became easy after he saw Morretti lying dead from an arrow and heard Blockbuster yell, “Vigilante, I call for a truce. Help to repel these intruders and I will rescind the bounty offer!”

Nightwing leapt into action; he dropkicked Count Vertigo immediately, knocking him into the desk that Nightwing had once used for cover. Merlyn and Deadshot immediately started firing on one another. The two cops stood in stunned silence. Finally Jansen decided that helping Blockbuster was his wisest move and he shot at Merlyn. The bullet missed Merlyn’s back and nearly hit Deadshot. Deadshot responded by firing a round into Jansen’s forehead, killing him instantly.

Fencik grabbed Lady Vic and pulled her from the room, he took her to the downstairs living room and placed her on the couch, she looked bad. Upstairs he could hear the fighting; it sounded like World War Thee up there. He picked up the phone and dialed 911, he gave them the situation and figured he had about two minutes until helped arrived, after all this was Blockbuster’s house, that automatically doubled the response time.

Blockbuster grabbed Vertigo by the throat with every intention of twisting his head around. Merlyn broke away from Deadshot just enough to fire an arrow that struck Blockbuster in the forearm. Quickly his arm turned to ice as it instantly froze. He dropped Vertigo and screamed in pain. Nightwing dove at Merlyn and Deadshot both, tackling them to the floor. Deadshot brought his right hand wrist cannon to Nightwing’s face, but Dick grabbed the wrist and smashed it over his knee, breaking Deadshot’s arm.

Merlyn scrambled for an arrow and pulled his bowstring. Nightwing’s shuriken cut the string in half and the arrow fell to Merlyn’s feet and exploded in a small gas cloud that made him cry and wheeze. Nightwing gave Merlyn a roundhouse kick to the head and knocked him out. Dick looked over at Blockbuster who was holding his injured arm, and said, “No more bounty hunters Roland, we had a...” The click of a weapon at his head made Nightwing stop in mid sentence.

Tim Fencik was sweating badly, but he held his gun steady at Nightwing’s head. “All you have to do is pull the trigger.” Blockbuster said. “I will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

Tim looked at Blockbuster and back at Nightwing, then … he holstered his gun. “I don’t think so Mister Desmond; you see Nightwing is like me, we’re the good guys.” Tim could hear the sirens outside; he looked at Nightwing and motioned for him to go.

Nightwing looked at Deadshot, Vertigo, and Merlyn, “Watch those three, they’re a slippery bunch. Rollie, I don’t suppose you’ll confess to any of this will you? No?” He looked at Fencik, “Thanks Tim, you are one of the good ones.” And Nightwing was out the window.

The End...

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