It would have taken a chainsaw to cut the silence the enveloped the entire team. Damian and Gibbs still were having a stare down. Ziva was staring at Damian in a new light, studying him intently. McGee was open-mouthed and astounded. DiNozzo was half-way between laughing and shouting—even he didn't seem to know what to do.

No one wanted to break the silence, yet not a single member of Gibbs' team doubted the truth of the boy's statement.

The uncomfortable silence was broken by the sound of smashing glass and whistling of a bullet. Everyone dropped to the floor as the bullet embodied itself in the wall behind Damian. A woman began to scream as a figure wearing a black-and-copper unitard and carrying enough weaponry to supply an army, stepped through the shards of the window and onto the floor on the NCIS building.

"Come here kid," the man with one eyed called. "Let's avoid any unnecessary fighting, alright? You have three seconds to get out here, or I'm going to start killing everyone on this floor, do you understand me?"

"Who are you and why do you want the boy? Gibbs demanded from where he crouched, holding his gun, behind his desk. Ziva was holding her gun, waiting for Gibbs' signal, as was Tony. McGee was shielding Damian with his body, trying to keep the boy out of the madman's sight.

"Ah! A volunteer who wants to be the first to die! Since you asked, I'll grant your final wish. My name is Deathstroke. Pleased to meet you before I kill you," the mercenary responded.

"And why do you want the kid?" Gibbs asked.

Deathstroke laughed. "Money is a factor. Half-a-billion is quite a tidy sum these days. But I think revenge is much more satisfying, though. Boy! Come here now or these people die. 3, 2—"

"Stop! Stop!" Damian ran out in plain view of Deathstroke, holding up his hands in surrender. McGee slowly got up from where Damian had roughly shoved him. Gibbs cursed and exposed the upper half of his body in order to train his gun on Deathstroke.

"Damian. Damian. Damn it kid come back here right now!" Gibbs yelled at the boy, who only shook his head and continued to gaze at Deathstroke, who had his weapon trained on Gibbs.

"If you do not put down your weapons now," Gibbs addressed the mercenary, "my agents and I will open fire."

The man cocked his head. "What do you think, boy? Think the old man could out-shoot me? Tell you what. You come with me, and I won't blow this play sky-high and kill the old man. Deal?"

"Swear it on Rose's life," Damian hissed.

The man's postured stiffened as he glared at the boy. "I swear it. Now come here!"

Damian spared half a glance at Gibbs. "I'm so sorry," he muttered before slowly making his way to the man with a million guns. Gibbs, Ziva, Tony, Tim, and the entire floor watch as the ten-year-old walked over to Deathstroke. He was barely clothed, with an oversized sweatshirt on and no shoes. Gibbs wanted to call and warn him to be careful and not step on any broken glass with his bare feet.

No one moved. No one breathed. Damian watched the gun that was still trained on Gibbs. Deathstroke switched his vision between the gun pointed at him and the child coming his way. When Deathstroke could reach out and touch the boy, he quickly switched targets and shot Damian in the stomach. The boy cried out in surprise, stumbled, and landed on the glass shards from the window. Before the agents could fire their own weapons, Deathstroke had his gun pointed at Damian's head, which rested at his feet.

"Anything, and his brains will be splattered and you'll be cleaning his blood out of the carpet for months to come," Deathstroke warned. No one moved. The black-and-copper covered man easily swung Damian up from the ground and threw the bleeding boy over his shoulder.

"Now, here's the deal," the man continued. "I'm going to take this boy," he tapped Damian harshly with his gun and the boy let out a low and painful moan, "and leave. You will wait 10 minutes or I'll send back the boy's fingers. One for every minute you didn't give the two of us to leave." He sent a very pointed look at Gibbs, who still had a gun trained on him.

"Have a good day, agents," Deathstroke said before turning and leaving the way he came. Helpless, the agents watched as the Damian disappeared from their sights.

The ten minutes that everyone waited felt like ten years; but they stood patiently—no one doubted that Deathstroke would carry through with his threat. Finally, the time was over.

"Damn it!" Gibbs shouted as everyone broke into chatter and nervousness. People were called as other agents began to take note of the scene. Tony and Ziva came up to him.

"Hey, boss—" Tony began, but one look from Gibbs and he was silence.

"He's ten DiNozzo! Ten! He shouldn't be going through this! How could we not protect him? Where do we even go from here?" feeling tired all of a sudden, Gibbs sat in his chair and rubbed his temples.

"He told me what to do Boss," McGee said. Three heads snapped up at his statement. "Damian gave me a number to call. Told me to ask for Grayson and then tell him 'Red X' and relay what happened here."

Well what are you waiting for McGee?" Gibbs asked. "Let's go make that call." They went to a conference room, as it was secluded and private. McGee dialed the number and all four waited with baited breath as the phone continued to ring.

"Hello?" the voice of a young man answered.

"Hello, is this Mr. Grayson?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes is it," Grayson replied, "who is this and what can I do for you?"

"This is Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs of NCIS," Gibbs told the man. "And we're actually hoping you can help us."

"A federal agent, huh? Well, Officer Dick Grayson of the Bludhaven Police Department at your service."

"We have a message for you, Officer Grayson, and a story to go with it. We'd rather deliver it in person, so if you could please come down to D.C., we'd really appreciate it."

"Sure, I'll be there as soon as I can," he replied casually. Gibbs rolled his eyes at the officer's carefree manner.

"Officer Grayson, this is of the utmost importance," Gibbs stressed, wanting the man to come to their building immediately. "My team and I were told to tell you 'Red X'." The breathing on the other end of the line stopped. "Officer Grayson? You still with me?"

"I'm thankfully in the area," the man's voice finally came back over the line. However, now it was more shaky and less confident and joyful than it had been. "Expect me—we have to get right down to work. Is Damian with you now? Can I talk to him? Is he hurt?"

Gibbs steeled himself to deliver the bad news. "Officer Grayson, I'm so sorry to tell you this, but Damian was kidnapped by a man calling himself Deathstroke less than a half-hour ago." The heart-wrenching gasp over the other end of the line caused Gibbs' own heart to clench and the muffled curses only hardened his resolve to find the boy.

"I'll…I'm on my way," Officer Grayson assured them as he hung up the phone. But not before the sounds of cursing could be heard faintly from the other end on the line.

Grayson arrived a few hours after his call, talking on his cell phone. "I don't care Tim! I want you and your friends to help look! Of course I have Babs looking! This isn't a disappearing act Timmy! This is Deathstroke!" The agents paused to listen in as Grayson came up to their desks, making a sorry gesture and holding up a finger for one more minute. "Tim! Focus! I'm with NCIS now, alright? Anything happens, call Alfred or Bruce. Steph and Cass are looking as well, so keep them informed too. And, above all, you find anything you call me, do you understand!" Another pause; Grayson narrowed his eyebrows. "No! You will call me, understood? You have a problem, take it up with Bruce, you got me? Good. And Timmy—please be careful."

"Younger brother?" McGee asked. Grayson nodded.

"Yeah, Damian's the youngest of us," Grayson responded, then laughed. "It's weird. Timmy, I've always been his big brother. Damian, I feel like the parent. I've just taken care of him so much while our father's been gone."

The happy tone gone from his voice, Dick Grayson turned his gaze to each Agent and spoke in a saddened and weary way that one expects of a seasoned parent worried for their child, "I cannot lose Damian. I can't. We need to find him."

The determination from Ziva, Tony, and McGee is match by both Gibbs and Officer Grayson. Gibbs rests his hand on Dick's shoulder. "Don't worry son, we'll find him."

Well, that's the conclusion of this section of "The Damian Effect."

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The next story will be entitled "The Appeal" and it will be found in the Batman/Suits crossover section and you can see my profile for what else I have planned. Thanks for sticking with me!