Dynasty: A Batman Tale Part 13

NOW

“Are you sure about this?” Dick asked, pacing back and forth behind Bruce, who’s attention was focused on the wall of monitors in front of him. Bruce hadn’t moved in hours, he had been going over the information provided by the GCPD Database as well as from Oracle all night. Sometimes Dick wasn’t sure if Bruce was even listening to him. “I get the feeling you’re leaving something out.” Dick stopped behind Bruce’s chair, grabbed the headrest and spun him around, “What are you not telling me?”

“We’ll get to that in a moment, but first…”

OK, so there is more! Dick though to himself.

“Look at…” Bruce tried to say, but began coughing.

Dick couldn’t remember the last time, if ever he heard Bruce Wayne cough or even get sick for that matter. Bruce had vigorously taken care of himself over the decades, a habit he most certainly instilled in his ward Dick Grayson.

“Bruce, Are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Leave it alone.” Bruce said with a slight hint of agitation in his voice. “Look at this.” Bruce continued directing Dick’s attention toward the main monitor. “This is the newspaper advertisement that the exploding clowns answered.”

JOB TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE

60 minutes work

$5000.00 Tax-free

THIS IS NOT A JOKE!!!

CALL 665-956-5464

OR SHOW UP TO THE WEST 127TH STREET STATION

TRACK 16

AT 8:30AM

“They were instructed to meet at the West 127th Street Station!” Bruce pointed out. “All five victims wound up at this location and it’s where they were all abducted.” Bruce said.

“How do you know they didn’t just call the number?”

“Take another look at the Ad.” Bruce ordered.

Sir, YES sir! Dick studied the advertisement for a few seconds until it hit him clear as day. “The phone number’s bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Correct! There is no 665 area code in either Gotham or the country, and when the numbers are exchanged with their alphabetical value…” Bruce said as he typed.

Dick watched as the phone number transformed into a phrase, “Only joking! Subtle, real subtle!”

For a moment, Dick thought he may have heard Bruce chuckle, but instead realized his father figure had started coughing. Bruce pulled a white cotton handkerchief with his embroidered initials and coughed violently into it. Upon pulling the fabric away from his mouth, Bruce tried and failed to conceal the bloodstain from Dick.

“Bruce?”

“I said I was fine.”

THEN

“I assure you, Master Grayson, I am not hiding anything.” Alfred was behind the wheel, looking at Dick through the rearview mirror chauffeuring the youngster towards his new home.

“I told you just call me Dick.”

“I apologize Master Dick.” Alfred corrected.

“Whatever! Tell me why some rich hot shot wants to see me will ya.” Dick was fidgeting in the back seat. “He’s not like, into, ya know… little boys is he?”

Alfred gave Dick a stern look in the mirror causing the orphan to shrink down into the back seat.

“I’m just kidding.” He mumbled awkwardly.

Dick felt the car decelerate. Outside he watched a wall of foliage change into a large steel gate in which Alfred was now passing through

“Welcome to Wayne Manor.” The butler announced.

Dick’s jaw dropped at the shear enormity of the estate. Beautifully manicured trees and gardens littered the massive front lawn. The driveway stretched two hundred yards from the front-gate to the colossal brick structure. It was the biggest house Dick had ever seen. “You live here!”

“Indeed!” Alfred agreed. “Master Bruce and myself reside here, however, we have a few staff members that help oversee the grounds.”

“Seems spacious.” Dick joked.

Spacious was an understatement, Dick stepped through the entryway and saw the high vault ceilings, “Very spacious!” Dick heard his words echo through the room. He also heard footsteps approaching. Dick looked on and watched a well built athletic man wearing a custom tailored suit approaching. The man, still a few steps away began to reach out his hand.

“I’m glad you like it. You must be Dick Grayson. It’s nice to meet you I’m…”

“Bruce Wayne!” Dick answered taking Bruce’s outreached hand and shaking it, “I know I’m only eleven, but I’m telling you right now, I’m not your everyday run of the mill average kid! I’m just NOT”

It wasn’t everyday Bruce was interrupted by a child, visibly caught off guard Bruce agreed, “No, you’re not average at all are you? Alfred will show you to your room and get you fed, we’ll chat again later.”

Alfred tugged on Dick’s shoulder, “Right this way Master Dick.” Before they reached the staircase, Dick stopped, turned back towards Bruce “For how long?” Young Grayson yelled.

“That’s your decision!” Bruce replied.

“Really?” Dick whispered to himself, but the acoustics of the room still caused his voice to echo through the halls of Wayne Manor.

Over the next few months Dick had many nightmares. He continued to relive the last day of his family’s life, as vivid as if watching television. First, flashes of being sent out for ice cream, then Falcone’s men assaulting his father and finally hearing the cries of the first responders crackling over the radio, “We got dead kids in here!” The nightmare always ended the same, a fiery explosion and the smell of flesh burning until Dick was consumed by the fire. The fireball triggered Dick to snap up out of bed drenched in sweat.

On many nights Alfred would hear young Grayson screaming in his sleep and would bring Dick a cup of hot chocolate reassuring him that the bad dreams would pass. Dick appreciated the reassurance, but Alfred was wrong. The nightmares did not pass nor fade, and a fact he learned later on from Bruce, they never would.

At first, Bruce felt reluctant to allow Dick to be home-schooled by Alfred, but due to the increased number of altercations the youngster had been getting into, there seemed to be no other option. Keeping his anger in check was a daily struggle for Dick, he was quick to lash out if provoked and the Gotham Public School system held plenty of opportunity. Bruce knew Alfred was a wonderful teacher, he himself had been taught many lessons by the steward and was all the better for it. Bruce also knew that similar to himself, being schooled at home gave the chance for the orphan to make friends very limited, if not impossible which was something that gave Dick no bother.

Dick’s attitude grew worse after the case against the Falcone Organization fell apart. Both triggermen who had been responsible for the murder of Dick’s entire family had agreed to turn state’s evidence against Carmine Falcone. Unfortunately, they had mysteriously died, and without their testimony, any chance of Carmine Falcone being held responsible and accountable died as well.

Dick’s feelings were clashing inside his young soul. He found himself happy that the men who were physically responsible were dead, but he knew they were soldiers following orders. Dick wanted the man who gave those orders, he wanted nothing more than to hold Boss Carmine’s feet to the fire.

Dick would never forget when his entire life had been shattered, someone was out there helping. He still had the small piece of parchment with a bat doodle and the words ‘For Grayson’ written on it, a note he received from the Batman after capturing his families killers.

After a few months had gone by, Dick was finishing up some reading when there was a knock at his bedroom door. He could tell from the knock that it was Bruce. Alfred tends to tap lightly with his knuckles whereas Bruce uses the side of his fist.

“Come in.” He said closing the book Alfred had assigned him to read.

“Unmasking the Face: A Guide to recognizing emotions from Facial Clues, I remember this book, Alfred had me read it as well. I learned quite a bit from Dr. Ekman.” Bruce was looking at the cover of the book, he stayed quiet for a moment. He placed the book down on the bed beside Dick, “Alfred spoke to me about some of the things you had said the day he brought you to live here.” Dick remained silent. “Do you still feel that way?”

For a moment Dick thought about being untruthful, however, felt somehow any lie he told would be completely transparent. Bruce would see right through him. “I do!”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to remain silent, instead he stared into Dick’s eyes for an uncomfortable moment until finally saying, “Thank you for being honest, but…” Dick waited for the shoe to drop, now that he was actually being honest, Bruce would think he was a terrible person and would no longer accept him in his home. To Dick’s surprise Bruce continued, “Know this, taking a life is not justice. It’s revenge, and revenge doesn’t change anything. That pain you are feeling inside…” Bruce pointed at the center of Dick’s chest, “…The hollowness that feels never ending, it doesn’t go away, it won’t go away. If you cross that line, the emptiness becomes a hunger and that hunger needs to be fed. Then you become no better than them.”

Dick sat silently. It felt for the first time Bruce was speaking as a friend and that was giving Dick reason to listen.

“I know killing Carmine Falcone wont fix the way I feel, in fact sometimes when I think about it, it actually makes me feel worse. It’s just…” Dick quickly wiped away a forming tear, “…how can there be justice when they killed my…” Dick drug out the words, “…e-n-t-i-r-e f-a-m-i-l-y.” He allowed the tears to fall. “I read the newspapers, I’m a smart kid you know. The cops wont arrest him cause they can’t ever prove anything.”

Bruce was looking at him with a greater sense of reverence. “You are a smart kid, thankfully in Gotham it’s not only the police keeping us safe.” Bruce said heading for the door.

Dick knew that Bruce was speaking of the Batman. Some of the newspapers called him a Dark Knight, others referred to him as a violent vigilante. Whatever he was, he had helped Dick and the more Dick thought about it, the more he felt inspired.

The next morning Dick had made a decision, if he wasn’t going to kill Carmine Falcone, he was going to do everything possible to make sure he went to jail.

Wayne Manor had a state of the art security system, it took no time for Dick to figure how to get out of the house and off the grounds without raising the alarm. He was determined to see Carmine Falcone face justice and he had a plan. First he had to gather evidence and that meant surveillance.

Dick chose the night Bruce Wayne was set to host a silent auction charity ball for underprivileged children, with so many distractions, Dick figured it the perfect chance to sneak out of the manor and head downtown. The gala was a black-tie affair hosted by Wayne and joined by Gotham’s rich elite. Dick wasn’t expected to attend, but out of respect made an appearance early in the event. As the evening ended, Dick acting tired, said goodnight and retired early to his bedroom. However, instead of going to bed, Dick stealthily made his way out of the house and around to where the catering vans were parked. The hired personnel were running around cleaning up and loading the vans, so nobody noticed when Dick silently jumped in the back of one and hid under the evening’s used linens. He didn’t move the entire time while the van headed back into the city. After the van had parked back at it’s headquarter, the pre-teen waited twenty minutes just to be safe and then finally jumped out. Dick climbed the closest fire escape, making his way up to the roof. From there he made his way towards a known Falcone hangout never once touching the ground.

Dick Grayson waited and watched for hours, taking pictures and notes on every person coming and going. He had learned about this Falcone base of operations while he read through every court transcript and police report he could get his hands on.

The sun would be rising promptly and if he was to make it back to Wayne Manor he was going to need to leave soon. This may take a while, but I’ll find a way, even if I have to sneak out every night. Dick began to pack up his gear which included two cameras, one notepad and three granola bar wrappers. He had gotten hungry and didn’t want to leave any evidence of his night on the rooftop as he watched the street below. He threw his backpack on when he saw the dark form perched behind him. Batman! Any other twelve year old would be stricken with fear, but not Dick. He figured with somebody like Batman roaming the rooftops, nobody else would dare to be up here. No one else except for me.

“A little late for someone your age to be out.” It wasn’t a question.

“I...I was just...” Grayson began.

“You were gathering Intel on a known Falcone front. Did you log all the activity from zero two hundred hours until you finished, and did you photo every subject?”

He knew what I was doing! “Yes!” He answered.

“Good! Give it to me.” Dick handed his notepad and camera to Batman. “Now, go home!” Grayson did as told and made his way towards the next rooftop, but before he reached the edge Batman called out to him. “Grayson! Good job!” He knows who I am? Dick turned around to say thank you, but he was alone.

Not long after, one morning at breakfast Alfred was serving up his special strawberry banana waffles, Bruce was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the daily paper. Grayson slid into the kitchen nook as Alfred fixed him a breakfast plate. “Smells delicious, thanks Al.”

“You are most certainly welcome.”

Dick scarfed down his breakfast followed by a cold glass of chocolate milk.

“There’s an interesting article in the paper this morning Dick.” Bruce said as he passed the front page to his ward.

“I like the funny pages and make sure to save me the Sudoku game, I’m trying to beat my record.” Quipped Grayson.

“Oh you may want to take a look at the front page Master Dick, I believe in some way it pertains to you.” Chimed Alfred.

Dick picked up the paper, Alfred was right. It did pertain to him, but not in the way that Alfred meant. The front-page headline read Carmine Falcone Indicted on multiple charges, but what really pertained to the young detective was the half page picture beneath the headline. Hey, I took that picture.

NOW

“Damn it Dick, I need you focused!” Bruce yelled agitated.

“Wow, You know what Bruce, you can be a real ass.” Dick shot back. “Are you ever going to start treating me like an adult? I know what’s at stake here and believe me when I say I am focused, but I’m watching you…”

“What? Watching me, what?” Bruce cut him off.

Cough up blood. “Never-mind!”

“Listen I was a little under the weather, but I’m fine now.”

He’s lying to me, he knows I can tell that he’s lying to me. Okay, perhaps now is not the time, but when will be? Bruce began coughing again. Dick ignored it. His plan is sound. It has to work! If it doesn’t more innocent people will die, including Tim.

“We need to check out and investigate the West 127th Street Station, that may be ground zero for where these exploding clown victims were abducted.” Bruce started

“Then perhaps someone left something behind. Some kind of evidence to help give us another lead!” Grayson finished.

“Exactly.”

The Bluetooth earpiece in Dick’s ear started to buzz, while at the same time a yellow light began flashing on Bruce’s console. Both men looked at each other knowing the caller’s identity, “Oracle,” they said in unison.

Bruce flipped a comm switch. “Go ahead.”

“There’s been a development,” started Barbara, “anonymous tip called in reports of a dead body. Gotham PD confirmed it’s Jervis Tetch.”

“Somebody whacked the Mad Hatter?” Dick’s surprise showed in his voice.

If Bruce was daunted, naturally it didn’t show, “Barbara, where was his body found?” He asked.

Barbara could be heard scrolling through her information, “The report says Tetch was found at The West 127th Street Station.”

Bruce looked at Dick, “Time to suit up.”