"Alright, we've gotta figure out where Blockbuster's hiding her. He's got safehouses all up and down the East Coast, but knowing him he'd want to keep her under his close personal supervision."
Slade reclines on the bed and starts sharpening a knife. I don't know where he pulled that out of. "So she'll be in that fortress he calls a house."
I keep typing. "She'll be wherever he is, or close by. We could take a look around his house..."
Slade sits up abruptly. "No. He said he'd kill her if his security picked up so much as a stray cat on his property."
I push angrily away from the desk, swivelling the chair to face him. "Then what exactly do you want me to do, Slade? We can't get her if we can't get in the building. We can get in the building--"
Slade cuts me off with, "You can promise me you can get into his headquarters without setting off a single alarm or alerting one guard, find her -- again without being detected -- and then get her out?"
I glare at him. "I can get in. I will probably remain undetected if I have time to study --"
He cuts me off again, the rude bastard. "We don't have time, Nightwing. That's the whole problem. I don't have time."
I start to respond but my wrist communicator starts vibrating. I flip it open to see Batman's grim visage. "Nightwing."
"Are you alone?"
I glare at Deathstroke. "No, but its alright. Go ahead."
He arches an eyebrow but doesn't argue. "She's not doing well, Dick."
My stomach feels like its got a frozen rock in it.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean she's not doing well. She's starting to hemmorage. We need a cure for this."
The rock starts travelling up my throat. "Or what? Or she'll die? Is that what you're telling me?"
He doesn't say anything, just looks at me. "The doctor and I have been talking. She's been trying to use the antibodies we found in your blood but the virus has mutated too much for them to be of any use. If we could get antibodies that actually matched the virus, or could adapt to it..."
"How? From who?" I look over at Slade, who's listening intently, and nod. "I understand. Let me ask him."
Hearing Batman surprised would be worth it if the situation were different. "He's there with you? ASK him?"
I ignore Batman, looking at Slade. "Think your healing factor could handle mutated West Nile virus?"
Slade nods thoughtfully. "Easily. Who's sick?"
"None of your damn business. We need your blood."
"I need my daughter back."
"I will get your daughter back, Slade, just get up to Gotham as fast as you can."
He snorts. "You're lucky you can stand right now, kid. You're not fooling me. I'm not sending you in alone and getting her killed. We get Rose back and you get your blood with my compliments. Not before."
I grit my teeth and look down at the comlink. "How long do we have?"
"Hours, a day at the most."
I glare at Slade half-pleading half-angry. "An innocent woman could die if you don't do this right now!"
He glares right back. "I know. That's why we're going to rescue her."
This is taking too damn long. "Fine," I snap, looking at the comlink. "We'll be there as soon as we can. Tell her to hang in there. Tell her..." I have to swallow the lump in my throat.
"Yes?"
"Nevermind. I'll tell her myself. Nightwing out."
I flip the comlink closed and look at Slade. "Alright. You said you were working for Blockbuster to try and kill me, right?"
Slade nods.
"That means you have some way of contacting him, yes?"
Slade nods again.
"Great. Call him up, or send your carrier pigeon or do whatever it is you do to get ahold of him and tell him you've got Nightwing, alive, and are willing to trade for your daughter's life -- plus your usual fee -- for giving him the pleasure of killing me himself. He'll probably decide the place but you insist it be one hour from now or you kill me. He hates me enough to give you that much and it'll make sure he stays local."
Slade nods again, smirking. "I would've suggested it if I thought for a minute you'd trust me enough to play along."
"I don't trust you any further than I can throw you, Deathstroke. I've just got no other choice. Make the call."
In one hour's time we find ourselves outside a burnt-out factory that looks strangely familiar. Blockbuster, apparently in a fit of irony, has picked the chop shop I torched when making my less than graceful escape two weeks ago. I liked him so much better before he had a brain.
Deathstroke parks the car and looks at me. I look at the warehouse. There's a light on in the area of the office. I can barely make out the armed guards patrolling the roof.
"You ready, kid?"
"Ready enough. You take Blockbuster, I'll grab Rose and skedaddle. Soon as I'm clear I'll beep you and you get the hell out."
"Sounds like a plan to me." He exits the car and walks over to my side, opening the door. I obligingly go limp and he slings me over his shoulder, shutting the door and adjusting me in such a way as to remind my ribs that they're not fully healed yet. I keep my eyes slitted, trying to watch what's going on around me, but mostly all I can see is Slade's belt pouch.
He takes his time, walk cocky and self-assured, waving to the guards with his free hand and making small talk like he walks around with bodies over his shoulder all the time. Which he probably does, given that he's a contract killer, but I still find the thought rather creepy, especially when I'm the body in question.
The guards seem appropriately impressed, one being brave enough to lift my head by the hair to study my face before 'escorting' Mr. Wilson and his prize to Blockbuster's private office. At least I assume its his private office. I'm not taking the chance of peeking more than once or twice with the entourage Deathstroke's picked up. There's at least four escorts and I hear two more voices before we pass through the door. Blockbuster's voice thrums though my very bones as he purrs Deathstroke's name. "You've brought the whelp. Excellently done, Terminator."
"Thanks. I want my kid and I want my money."
"Glad to see you have your priorities straight for once, Mr. Wilson. Family is so important."
I sneak a peek during this exchange to see a frightened teenager with long white hair, just like Slade's, sitting on an oversized armchair that makes her look about five, hands clenched tightly in her lap. She looks unhurt. Scared, naturally, but unhurt.
Blockbuster continues on with his family values speech. "The importance of fathers really is so underestimated in this day and age, wouldn't you agree my dear?"
Then I feel Slade stiffen as a sarcastic woman's voice says, "Hello, 'Daddy.'"
The answer he gives, after a long moment's pause, shocks me enough I almost blow the whole thing. "Addie?" His voice is slightly breathless with surprise and I'm one confused 'unconscious' superhero. I thought we were here to rescue Rose. Hell, I thought Adelaide Wilson was dead.
"You're dead." Apparently so did Deathstroke.
"I got better." I hear what is unmistakably the hammer of a gun click back into firing position.
Deathstroke plays it cool, letting me slide to the floor. I fall in a boneless heap, still playing dead and hoping its not just rehersal for the real thing in the very near future.
"How?"
"You, Slade. But then, its always been about you, hasn't it. You and your stubborn pride. Your pride that took my baby's voice, your pride that took both my babies' lives." Her voice is calm, emotionless in a way that screams danger. She's going to kill him. Or try her best.
"Both my sons are dead because of you and your stupid pride. This little girl's mother is dead because of your stupid pride. I died because of your stupid, worthless, useless pride!" Her voice goes up like nails on a chalkboard and I try not to wince at the level of seething hatred and madness in her tone. I know Slade can take a bullet and not even flinch, but I'm pretty sure his ex-wife over there knows it too, and I don't wanna think about what she's got that gun loaded with that she thinks she can stand there and point it at him and expect him to be afraid. I think he's a bit thrown, but then who wouldn't be in this situation?
"They were my sons too, Addie."
"Shut up! Don't you dare try to claim that you were any kind of a father to either of them. Teaching a boy to shoot doesn't make you a father. You were too busy with your work, too caught up in being 'the best' to be a father to my sons. You killed them both because of your God-damned ego. And that's how I knew you'd end up here."
I sneak another look. Everyone's forgotten about me while Addie and Slade perform their version of Kramer vs. Kramer. Well, there's one thing gone right. Addie stabs a finger at Rose, hissing at Slade, whose face I can't see.
"Your damn pride. The Great Deathstroke's ego wouldn't allow him to lose another child, oh no. What'll it be this time, Slade? Her eyes for your pride? Maybe her fingers? Or are you just going to do what the kidnappers want this time, like you should have done with Joseph?"
"What do the kidnappers want this time, Addie." His voice is tired and... old. I realize Slade's old enough to be my father for the first time since I've known him.
"I want you dead for what you've done to me and mine."
Slade's voice is entirely too reasonable. "And what about Rose and the boy, here?" He nudges me with his boot. Thanks for the attention, big guy. "You going to take someone else's children away from them just to kill me?"
"Rose is free to go." Blockbuster sounds very amused. Glad someone's enjoying the show. "The boy is mine. I'll even give Rose the money I was going to pay you for the job. I'm feeling magnanimous."
Slade's voice is dry. "And you've proven yourself so trustworthy, too. Sorry Desmond, no deal."
I tense, bracing myself for an attack on the guards near the door. Adelaide's voice confirms my suspicions.
"I knew you'd say that."
She fires, and all hell breaks loose.
I push off the ground with my hands, catching guard number one under the chin with the heel of my good leg, and he goes down, spraying bullets. I hear Rose scream and Addie curse as I catch the other guard in the side of the head with my cast-covered leg, spinning to look where Rollie is before backflipping to my feet and barring the door. Addie and Slade are duking it out, both of them moving too fast, hitting too hard for either of them to be human. Blockbuster is attempting to get his hands on Rose, who's wisely decided to make a run for it. She still looks unhurt, at least. Then the other four goons burst through the door and my time is taken up with fighting them off while avoiding being shot. Addie and Slade keep up their verbal assault while they fight.
"You sorry son of a bitch! Going to make it three for three, huh? Couldn't live without the hat trick, could you?"
She fires again and blows a hole in the wall big enough for me to crawl through. Slade is fast, but so is she. She's got the gun trained on him again even as he's finishing up the backflip that took him out of range.
"Addie, stop it and for God's sake listen to me! You're going to get both of you killed!"
He aims one kick after another at his ex-wife's gun hand, but she manages to block them all.
"Shut up! It wasn't enough that I divorced you. I should have killed you instead of just taking your eye."
And that's all the attention I can afford that fight because I've just come into Goon Central Station. Wisely leaving Addie and Slade to their marriage counseling, they go after the limping apparently just-woke-up walking wounded guy. (That would be me). First one goes down easy with a boot to the head. What is it about henchmen with glass jaws, I swear. You'd think they'd realize it after the first five times and go into something a little less physical, like boxing. Taking a dive for Mike Tyson has to be easier than this.
Guy number two has a few moves on him, and I can hear Blockbuster roaring himself up into a fine old rage. This means I've got about ten seconds before Desmond goes nuclear and starts bringing down the house -- literally.
"Addie, would you listen to the man? Joey wouldn't want you guys -- hey!"
Okay, so maybe bringing up Joe wasn't the best idea, but you don't have to shoot the messenger. Guy number two finally goes down and I catch a glimpse of Rose clocking one of them with a handy chair. Score one for the good guys. If she lives she might even fit in with the Titans. Wonder if she's got any special abilities...
And, ow. I stagger back as the guy connects one punch, then two. 'Keep your mind on what you're doing, Boy Blunder,' says Babs' voice in my head. I sock the guy, plain old-fashioned haymaker, and send him flying into his buddy. Blockbuster grabs Deathstroke and holds him high overhead, face about purple and the veins in his neck standing out like ropes. Then Addie shoots Blockbuster. Whoa.
"Let him go you cretin! He's MINE!"
Addie has her gun pointed at Blockbuster and he's... I think I can see daylight through him. Well, flourescent light. He tosses Deathstroke away like he's some kind of rag doll and grabs Addie by the neck, rumbling like a freight train.
"You will pay for that, woman."
Everyone's stopped to watch in sick fascination, goons and good guys alike. Slade hauls himself up and screams "no!" just as someone slams into me from behind. Okay, not everyone I guess. I twist around, throwing the guy off me and into Desmond, and the guy just bounces off. Man, I'd forgotten how massive Blockbuster is. His other hand goes around Addie's wrist, forcing her to drop the gun with a sickening crack. It clatters to the floor as he rumbles.
"My agreement with you and the little girl did not, to my memory, include you shooting me. Therefore I'm declaring it, and you, null and void." Deathstroke hollers as the two minions left guarding the door burst in guns drawn. I kick the guy on the left and chop at the guy on the right at the same time and manage to get them both to drop their weapons. Then there's a click and Rose's voice sings out.
"Everybody freeze."
The guys I'm fighting actually do and I turn to see what the hell is up. Rose is holding some sticks of what look like modeling clay complete with digital timer attached in one hand. In the other is the gun Addie dropped. She's got it pointed at Blockbuster's head.
"You are not welshing on our deal now, Blockbuster. You promised us him." She nods towards Deathstroke and color me confused but wasn't she the hostage in all this?
Blockbuster doesn't move. Deathstroke does, coming out from behind him to look at Rose, moving slowly, hands in the air. "Its alright honey, I'm going to get you out of here." Slade has apparently not been keeping up with the conversation.
"You killed my mother. You killed her sons. Hell, you killed her." She nods in Addie's direction. Addie just hangs from Blockbuster's grip, watching intently. She smiles as she sees Slade jerk back. "That's right, Slade. You walked right into this."
Slade turns to regard her. She keeps talking, gloating.
"Oh the famous bounty hunter, always gets his man. Or woman. Well, you're getting something this time, alright. You're getting yours. I found Rose and told her everything you've done in your sad sorry excuse for a life. I told her about Grant and Joe and her mother, how you destroy everything you touch, everything you claim to care for. We decided you needed to be taught a lesson and who better to teach it than the two people you've hurt the most? Mr. Desmond kindly agreed to help if we would take care of you."
And she looks at me. I can't believe this. My friends mom tried to kill me. "What? Addie you... why?"
She shrugs. "Nothing personal. Joseph always thought highly of you. But Mr. Desmond wanted you dead and in such a way that it wouldn't bring the Bat down on him. So I attacked you and made it look like Slade did it. On the off chance he escaped this little ambush the Bat would hunt him down for us to avenge your death."
Now I looked at Rose. She had that mad Wilson gleam in her eye. God, what is with this family? "You so deserve this, Daddy."
I do not have time for this crap.
"Rose, listen to me. You do not want to do this."
Rose looks at me like I'm dumb.
"Okay, maybe you do want to do this. You've actually put a lot of thought and planning into it. But I mean, look, you've won, right? You lured him here, he didn't have a clue you were behind it. Look at his face."
I motion to him as he stands motionless, watching Rose, eyes narrowed. Addie's stopped talking and is turning a rather pale shade of blue as Blockbuster takes advantage of the distraction to choke her into unconsciousness. Or maybe he just doesn't know his own strength.
"You got him. The great Slade Wilson, humbled at last. Walked right into it with both eyes - well okay, one eye - open. You kill him now its over for him. But you let him live, he's gotta face down everyone knowing a fifteen year old girl got the better of him. His own daughter. Think about it, Rose. This guy's pride led him to kill both his sons."
Slade gives me a look of death. Hey, work with me, I'm trying to save your life and the life of the girl I love, asshole.
"Just imagine how a blow like this must be eating him alive."
Rose looks from me to Slade, to me, to Addie, to Slade. She's thinking hard. I make my voice soothing, inching closer to her.
"You've got your revenge, Rose. You've got him. You don't need to--"
"Screw that."
And she shoots him. There's a hole in his chest the size of my freaking head. He drops like a hammered ox and she drops the gun, looking aghast at the damage done. I grab the C4 as Blockbuster drops Addie, snagging Rose by the neck in turn and lifting her high, looking at me smugly.
"Now then. Where was I, before I was so rudely interrupted. Oh yes, seeking your demise. I will wring this little girl's neck like a dishrag if I don't see your blood on this floor by the count of five, Nightwing."
I look at the C4, then at Blockbuster. What's he want me to do, eat it? "If I blow this we all go."
Blockbuster looks unconcerned. "I'm sure you know half a dozen ways to die that don't require you taking any innocent bystanders with you. One. Two."
I roll my eyes, look at the gun on the floor.
"Three." Rose sputters, kicking, her tiny hands beating against Roland's massive fists.
"Four... Fi-" There's a dull thud and Roland Desmond's eyes widen in shock before he topples over slowly. Rose manages to throw herself to the side and I fling myself at Blockbuster's remaining conscious goons, dispatching them while holding the C4 above my head. The timer isn't counting down, thankfully, but that doesn't mean time isn't running out all the same. Babs. I look over and Slade stands behind Roland, his hand over the now fist-sized hole in his chest.
"Son of a --" Deathstroke kicks viciously at Blockbuster's side before going to help Rose stand, dragging her towards the door. He looks at me. "I thought you were in a hurry."
Hey, don't have to tell me twice. "You're gonna take her?"
He moves past me without looking. "She's my daughter." Blockbuster stirs, groaning and I decide Slade's got the right idea. Roland'll keep. I follow him out the door.
Deathstroke explains to Rose that he didn't kill her mother, though he does admit she did indirectly die because of him as we speed towards Gotham. Rose is all kinds of distraught about shooting him, oddly enough.
"I thought I killed you! I thought you were dead and I was all alone!"
Slade hesitantly strokes her hair. "It was a good shot. Normal man would've been."
"I was so mad at you. I just wanted you dead. But once you were it hit me that..."
Slade chuckles. "Takes more than that to kill me, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. Not for awhile." He wipes her cheek with one gloved hand. I just keep my eyes on the road. "You get that temper from me, you know."
She looks up at him timidly. "It was a good shot, wasn't it."
Slade glances at me, a weird mixture of pride and admonition in his voice. "Right in the heart."
I drop Slade and his nutso daughter off at a Wottaburger just off the last exit before Gotham. He goes in the bathroom and returns with a vial of his blood. I don't even say thank you, just tell him to get her some counseling. I make for the Bay Bridge. There's a cave there with a motorcycle with my name on it. I gun it onto the highway and activate the helmet com.
"Status," I bark tersely, sounding like the old man himself.
"She's fading fast. How far are you?" Bruce sounds grim. And unsurprised. He doesn't ask if I have the blood. He knows he wouldn't be hearing from me if I didn't.
"Ten minutes at the most."
I ride right up to the back door of the clinic. Leslie's waiting for me and snatches the vial from my hand before I can even turn off the engine. I appreciate the haste and follow her in, not bothering to secure the bike. I don't want to waste the time. Tim's in the hallway, waiting for me, Alfred standing silently in the background, watching the swinging double doors Leslie just ran through.
"She's... you got what she needed, right?"
I nod and sag into a chair, glancing at Alfred. His face is expressionless. I look at Tim and there's a whole novel of I don't wanna know. She's bad.
"She'll be ok." I say it as much for myself as for him. He sits next to me and pats my knee awkwardly. I put him in a half-hearted headlock, scrubbing my knuckles against his scalp. He forces a protesting laugh. Just another normal day for us, right? Maybe if we pretend hard enough that everything's okay, it will be.
I awaken to aching all over. Even my teeth ache. Must be from the horrible vending machine coffee. I sit up in the hard plastic chair gingerly, rubbing the back of my neck. Someone's elevated my rather swollen leg on another chair for me while I slept. My money's on Alfred. I look up at Bruce standing in front of me and suddenly I can't breathe. I just look at him blankly.
"She wants to see you."
I exhale and give him the first genuine smile of the last twenty-four hours, leaping to my feet. Broken leg? What broken leg? I feel like I could fly.
The alarm goes off and I squint blearily at it. Six AM. Crap. I'm going to be late for work. Again. I limp towards the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise and wake up Tim. He had a late night of it. Bruce insisted on going on patrol as soon as Babs woke up. She's going to be fine, in fact she was almost back to her old self when Leslie demand I let her sleep. She thinks she's pushing herself way too fast but Babs claims she feels fine and the tests back her up. Leslie thinks this is all happening way too fast to be for real. I wonder if that could also be from Slade, but honestly I don't much care. She's going to be okay.
I'm in a great mood for being up so early. I use up all of Tim's shampoo and write 'The Master' in the fog on the mirror. I also hide all the towels except the one I used and head downstairs, trying not to snicker. Alfred made buckwheat pancakes for the occasion. Just like old times. I make a mental note to come home more often.
"Hey, its Calamity Wayne!"
Guess they decided on my nickname after all. I'm greeted with backslaps and high-fives and catcalls of 'way to go, hero!' My cover story is I got blood poisoning from the broken leg I got helping my friend reroof their house. I'm on desk duty until the cast is off. A month of being chained to a desk. I guess its better than being chained to a cement block at the bottom of the Harbor. I guess. Safer at least. Verzetti slaps me on the back, causing me to spill coffee all over myself.
Yeah, its gonna be one of those days.
I don't mind a bit.