Commissioner James Gordon had taken up pacing in a small area in front of the school. Helena could not know the agony he felt at this moment. She thought he was cold, emotionless...but he was well versed in hiding his emotions. One didn't become police commissioner by wearing one's heart on one's sleeve. Barbara was his only weakness...his pride and joy. She was the one ray of sunshine in an otherwise mundane existence. Without her, his life held no meaning at all. She had been so vibrant, so full of life. She had put herself in harm's way a hundred times, but always seemed to weasel her way out in the end.
That night. He would never forget it. He had arrived at the hospital demanding blood, and that the doctor's save the light of his life. They had, though for the longest time he felt guilt for her predicament. Something had changed in her. She was no longer the girl who patrolled the city in black, red hair sailing like a banner behind her. She was someone else. For all his dreams and hopes and faith, she still had not shown him who. How did a father earn his daughter's trust? How could he make her see that he would not stand in her way? Even now. Even after the failure that cost her her legs. It was her life, he could not live it for her. Yet, she still treated him like an outsider. He was not worthy of her secret, he was always on the outside of her confidences.
Helena watched him from several feet back, silent. Barbara insisted her father was a teddy bear, a big, gruff teddy bear. Helena didn't see it. Then, again, she didn't know much about father's, or what they were supposed to be like. Her jaw stiffened. She would give Jim points for effort, he had tried...but she wasn't sure he'd liked the idea of Barbara 'adopting' her. She could see it just beyond his eyes. Whether it was a flaw in herself or Barbara, she didn't know. Didn't care, either.
Jim stopped pacing, glanced back at Helena and offered a half smile. She was hiding something....He knew she was. Someone had to be doing Barbara's leg work. Batman disappeared when Bruce Wayne left New Gotham, and Helena Kyle was Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle's daughter. Reasoning took him the rest of the way. He was no fool. She'd never admit it, but she knew exactly what Barbara was up to. He slipped his hands into his overcoat pockets and sighed. "When will you learn to trust me, Barbara?" He just hoped he lived to see the day.
***
"You even think about throwin' that frisbee and I'll fillet your little girl like a fish." Mark warned, narrowing his eyes at Barbara.
She let the batarang in her hand fall to the linoleum. "If you hurt her...I swear to God I'll kill you."
Dinah's eyes grew a little larger. Apparently, even Oracle killed sometimes...or at least threatened to.
"Let her go." The redhead warned with a voice as fiery as her hair.
"I don't think so....she's my ace in the hole. You won't hurt me so long as I've got my knife to her throat."
Dinah's mind was still muddled, awash with the images from her vision. What had they meant? His blood...she couldn't come in contact with his blood...but why? It made no sense. None of it.
Barbara's expression was hard, impassive. She had taken enough of this for one day...She'd been seated in the back of the room, passively, staring down the demon that threatened not only her foster daughter, but her class for far too long. Batgirl would have taken him down in the beginning, but things were far more complicated for Oracle. She itched to pull out her escrima batons, to floor the man in a matter of seconds. But, he was an ex-Marine; he was armed and dangerous; and her students were here to witness the entire event. Secret identity or not, she had to do something. "Don't be afraid, Dinah. Fear's all in your mind."
Dinah frowned, her eyes dropping from her guardian to the blade at her throat. She knew what Barbara was getting at. Her lips grew taut with concentration.
Mark grunted as his hand jerked, and the blade fell into the soft flesh of his stomach.
Dinah backed away from him, anxiously searching her skin and clothes for his blood. Reese moved to approach the man but she caught his arm. "You can't. You can't touch his blood. Trust me. There's something wrong with it."
Mark pulled the knife from his abdomen and pressed a hand to it to staunch the bleeding. "You little bitch....You think this is going to do you any good? Do you? I've got the hallway in front of this room rigged to blow....anybody tries to come in here, they're going to send us all to Kingdom Come. And, you know what else? Your little jacket is on a timer. Even if I don't die...we're all dead."
Barbara sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowed with fury. "When is it rigged to explode?" She demanded.
Mark smirked. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."
Hidden below the folds of cloth, the timer was nestled among the plastique, carefully counting down the seconds until the explosive finally served its purpose. Luminescent numbers glowed a brilliant green against the inky darkness of the jacket's interior. A display which had once ticked down hours, was now showing only the minutes until a blazing Armageddon took down New Gotham High School and anyone within a ten mile radius.