Nightwing #23--Behind the Mask

Dick put down the phone, frustrated. This was the third time he’d gotten a busy signal calling hotels to search for Night-Thief and Nocturna.

Fourth time. Dick gave up. He was getting sick of calling hotels only to hear an automated voice asking him to ‘please hold’. He turned back to the computer.

Yes! It had finished its search! Dick eagerly leaned toward the monitor, observing the fingerprint that showed on the screen. He compared it to the prints he’d taken at the motel earlier.

It was a match! Dick smiled to himself, and took Anton’s hair dye box out of the plastic bag he’d put it in. He scanned the photo of Anton he had, then edited it, to change the hair color to brown. He studied the newly printed picture and wondered if Anton had gotten a haircut to further disguise himself. Armed with the new information and picture, he decided to check at motels—in person this time.

At the fifth hotel he’d checked, Dick sighed. “This had better be it,” he muttered. Smiling politely at the clerk, he said, “Richard Grayson, investigator for Green and Loring.” He flipped the picture of Anton at the clerk, and ignored the muttering of the people behind him in line. “Have you seen this guy—Anton Knight?”

Behind Dick, a man suddenly ducked out of line. Dick saw him out of the corner of his eye and smiled at the man’s impatience.

“No, I don’t think so,” the clerk said, handing the picture back.

Disappointed, Dick nodded. “Thanks anyway.”

He went back out the door and walked over to his car.

Dick could hardly believe his eyes as he stepped out of the hotel. There, right in front of him was the crook he’d been hunting down! He stared at the man for a minute, wanting to be sure it was he.

The way the man’s eyes opened wide, and his panicky manner only confirmed Dick’s hunch.

Dick ran for his motorcycle and started it was fast as he could. He almost collided with another vehicle as he backed out of the parking space. As he drove off, he punched the button on his Bluetooth. “Police,” he said, listening for the ring.

As he made a hard right, he saw the car ahead of him and sped toward it as fast as safety allowed. Gradually, onlookers became aware of the chase and moved out of Anton’s and Dick’s paths, allowing Dick to move faster.

Unfortunately, it also allowed Anton to speed up.

Dick winced as Anton narrowly missed mowing down a woman. He considered temporarily quitting the chase to don his Nightwing costume, but decided against it. If Dick was ever going to show Rachel that he could handle being an investigator, he was going to have to do some things on his own.

Without the spandex.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t supposed to call the cops, though. He’d given the 911 operator his location, and updated her as he chased Anton onto other roads. Gradually Dick narrowed the gap between himself and Anton… five cars, four cars… One car turned, and the driver of the other decided that she didn’t want to be in the middle of the chase. Only two cars left.

Dick passed them easily and came up behind Anton. There was no space for him to drive beside him, so for the moment he simply stayed on Anton’s bumper.

A hand stuck out the driver’s window, holding something. Dick swerved to the right to avoid the can of Pringles Anton threw.

He heard a thunk behind him and slowed, glancing back just long enough to see that the chips can had landed on the windshield of the car behind him. No one had been hurt, thank goodness.

He turned his full attention on Anton, and focused on catching up to the villain again.

Dick didn’t slow at the intersection either. Instead, he simply wove through traffic until he got through. For a moment, he lost Anton in the sea of cars. Slowly, he scanned the area, looking for the crook.

There! Anton had gone right at the intersection instead of straight through. He was the maniac leaning on his horn! Driving the wrong way, Dick went back through the intersection and wound through the cars until he came up to Anton.

He was getting tired of the chase when he heard sirens in the distance, quickly growing closer. Hopefully, he looked toward the sound. Darn. An ambulance.

He sighed and wondered how long it would be until the cops arrived. Pulling over, Dick quickly pulled a magnetic tracker from his saddlebags. In a few seconds he was back after Anton.

Just as Dick caught up to him he heard sirens again—the cops this time. He leaned as far as he could over his ‘cycle’s handlebars and tossed the tracker. It locked on, and Dick allowed a tiny bit more space to come between him and Anton. A car from the N.Y.P.D. pulled up, followed by several others. Dick quickly advised the 911 operator and punched the button on his Bluetooth, ending the conversation.

He slowed and pulled up beside one of the cop cars, telling the officer which car was Anton’s. The patrolman nodded and radioed someone, probably one the other police cars nearby.

Dick fell behind the police cars, allowing them to pick up the chase. He pulled over and plugged an earpiece into his police band, listening for updates on the chase. Soon he heard a cop report, “we lost him.”

Dick grinned to himself. That was okay. He’d still been able to attach the transmitter to Night-Thief’s car. The only hitch was that he hadn’t been able to put it under the car. It was in plain sight on the back of it, so Dick would have to hurry and find him before he spotted it.

Dick tapped a little blip on the receiver’s screen. I can’t believe that he hasn’t seen the transmitter yet.

After he’d hooked two receivers up to the same signal, he’d left to follow up on some other clues.

Now he slipped into his Nightwing suit, while keeping his eyes on the little blip on the screen. It hadn’t moved in a while now.

I guess he was in a hurry to get out of the car and just didn’t notice it.

Tugging a mask on, he straightened it as he ran out to his motorcycle and hopped on. He slowly drew closer to the signal.

A hotel. The guy had switched hotels?

Or maybe… Maybe, just maybe, he was looking for Nocturna.

Anton had been at this location for a while—which hopefully either meant that he had either checked in or had found Nocturna. Or both…

With any luck it meant that he hadn’t found the transmitter and left it there to throw him and the police off his trail.

Only one way to find out…

Natalia studied Anton. He was surprised, all right. She wasn’t completely sure he bought the whole story—he’d had days to build up his hate toward her, and had been thoroughly convinced that she’d kissed Nightwing. But at least she’d surprised him. If only he knew of her plans for Nightwing.

She bit her lip and studied his face. “Anton—I don’t know what to say.” She gave a little laugh. “I’m sorry. I never should have kissed him. I was jealous and hurt, and… well, I guess I wanted to hurt you a little.” She looked at him ruefully. “Looks like I did. But I promise you: I have had nothing to do with Nightwing since that night. Right after I kissed him, I felt so… so ashamed, and I ran.”

Anton looked up in surprise at the intruder. Recovering from his shock, he glanced at Natalia to gauge her reaction. Would she be shocked? Happy? Relieved? Angry?


Natalia was surprised. Noticing Anton’s expression, she guessed what he was thinking and quickly assumed a shocked look and let out a little cry. She stepped back and bumped into a red chair.

“Anton, do something!”

Nightwing raised an eyebrow.

“What, you’re not gonna pull a gun on me, Natty?”

Nightwing surveyed the scene curiously. At least his fears of Anton’s bloodlust hadn’t materialized—he didn’t seem about to have his revenge on Nocturna. Well, on second thought, he wouldn’t say that Anton didn’t seem bent on bloodlust. The guy probably wanted Nightwing’s head. But at the moment, Anton seemed to be hesitating about what to do. Nocturna was behind him, pleading with him. Nightwing didn’t buy it.

“Come on, Anton. You gonna fall to her fake tears—her fake remorse? C’mon! She used you, and then, when she was done with you, she went after me!”

Anton tried not to show that Nightwing’s words made sense. He wanted to believe that Nocturna really did want him, and need him. He wanted to be her champion again!

Caught between Nightwing’s urging, and Nocturna’s pleading, he yelled—to one of them or to both he didn’t know, he just needed quiet for a minute, “JUST SHUT UP!”

Abruptly, the other two were quiet. He couldn’t see Nocturna’s face—she was behind him—but he could see that Nightwing was a little surprised.

Nightwing waited—if Anton didn’t make a move soon, he would. He straightened when Anton finally looked up at him, hate burning in his eyes. And he knew then what Night-Thief’s decision was.

The fight lasted about five minutes before a blow to Nightwing’s stomach knocked the wind out of him. He sprang up and saw the two fleeing through the door.

Not again. He chased them out to the parking lot and got on his ‘cycle. They were already in their car. This time, the couple seemed to have an idea where they were going.

He shook his head. Following Nocturna’s orders already?

Night-Thief raced down to the waterfront, past some warehouses. Nightwing kept pace before the two disappeared. The signal on his receiver abruptly became weaker.

Ha! I’ll bet they went into a warehouse! Being in the building would interfere with the signal, he thought.

Leaping off his ‘cycle he ran into the nearest warehouse. He crept in, looking around as he walked. A movement to his right caught his eye, and he headed for it.

“Heya, Natty.”

Nocturna was nearly hidden by the deep shadows. She stepped into a slightly better-lit area, and he could see the glow of her pale skin. Her blood red lips curved into a mocking smile.

“Hello, Nightwing.”

Before Nightwing could reply, another voice said, “Yes. Hello, Nightwing.”

Nightwing turned. Standing in the doorway was Night-Thief, suit, mask, and all. A light from outside glinted on his black goggles.

Night-Thief laughed and sprang forward. Nightwing took a few small steps back so that Night-Thief landed directly in front of him. Dropping down, Nightwing swung his leg out under Night-Thief’s. But Night-Thief had guessed his intent and leaped back only to spring forward just after Nightwing ended his kick. As Nightwing recovered from the kick, Night-Thief jumped toward him, landing a hard blow on Nightwing’s shoulder. Nightwing rolled across the floor, leaped up, faked a punch, and kicked hard at Night-Thief’s stomach. Night-Thief collapsed, clutching his abdomen.

The sound of applause filled the room.

“Well done, Nightwing.”

That was Nocturna’s voice… but where was the woman herself?

Glancing around, Nightwing decided that she had left the warehouse—and immediately began to wonder why.

He raised an eyebrow as he spied a lone speaker on a box. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

Nocturna laughed. “Oh, Nightwing. You talk big now—and I have to admit, you’re quite the warrior—but I wonder.”

“Yeah?”

“I wonder,” the woman continued, “how you would act in a situation where you couldn’t defeat the enemy.”

Nightwing laughed shortly. “I’d say I defeated Night-Thief.”

“Mmhmm. As would I. But that’s not the enemy I’m talking about.”

“No?” Nightwing asked as he looked to the warehouse door. She was probably outside, wanting him follow her, so Night-Thief could escape.

“No. Since you seem to be in the dark, I’ll give you fair warning—and a choice.”

“Then give it to me already and quit stalling.”

Nocturna laughed. “All right. The truth is there’s a bomb. In the warehouse. Now, the thing is, you and Night-Thief are in there with it. I’m nowhere near it. So—you can either try to find the bomb and defuse it, which you won’t. You can chase after me before I get too far away. Or, you can save Night-Thief.”

“Huh.” Nightwing’s mind raced as he replied to Nocturna. “Interesting turn of events here.”

No reply.

Nightwing turned around slowly, trying to determine where the bomb was, before deciding that, like Nocturna had said, it was hopeless.

She’s probably bluffing, but if she isn’t… there’s no telling when that bomb’ll go off. Nightwing crouched down and looked at Night-Thief.

“Anton?”

No answer.

“Shoot.” Nightwing grabbed Night-Thief and threw him over his shoulder. He ran out of the warehouse as fast as he could. He made it about ten feet before he heard a boom and felt a burning on his back. He half-leaped, half-fell forward, to land face first with Anton right in front of him.

He kept his head down as he heard debris falling around him. After a moment he cautiously lifted his head.

The first thing he noticed was that no more debris was falling.

The second thing he noticed was that if he moved he ached.

The third thing he noticed was that there was no black-clad form in front of him.

“Nataliaaaaa!”

Nightwing turned at Anton’s heart-broken scream.

“No!”

Nightwing sprang up and raced back to the burning building. Night-Thief stood in front of it, about to run in.

“Anton!”

The man didn’t even look at him.

Nightwing ran toward him. He had almost reached him when a second bomb went off. He was thrown backwards and instinctively rolled onto his stomach, arms thrown over his face.

“Oh, man!”

As soon as he could he rolled over and sprang up.

“Oh, man!” He repeated, running over to where Anton’s limp bloodied form lay.

He grabbed the man and started to put him on his shoulders again, but stumbled, wounded himself. Gritting his teeth he tried it again. He managed to get to what he deemed a safe distance from the warehouse before collapsing. Once he had caught his breath, he rolled Anton onto his back.

Hearing a car he turned around, hoping for an ambulance or something. He figured that by now someone would have called 911.

It wasn’t an ambulance he was looking at. It was a black Porsche—the same black Porsche he’d been chasing earlier.

The driver rolled down the window to reveal a grinning face.

“Heya, ‘Wing!” She mocked him.

Nightwing scowled. “This isn’t funny, Nocturna. Anton might die! You may have killed a man!”

Nocturna shrugged. “And I may not have. Only time will tell.”

Nightwing glared at her.

Nocturna smirked. “Oh, well. I have to go. I suspect the authorities will be here soon.” She smiled. “Ready for another choice? You can either chase me,” he heard her car doors lock, “or you can try and save poor Anton.” She laughed. “Your choice, Nightwing. Justice or compassion.” Still smirking, Natalia blew him a kiss and waved as she raced down the road in the car.

Nightwing paused, torn. Should he hunt down Nocturna before the trail grew cold, or should he stay with Night-Thief?

An agonized groan from behind him made up his mind. He turned back to Night-Thief. The man was ripping his mask off and looking around.

“Night-Thief? Anton?” Nightwing asked, crouching down beside the crook. He gave him a quick once-over, then scrutinized a particularly bad burn that covered the crook’s chest and shoulder.

Anton struggled to rise on one elbow and fell back. “Natalia?” He asked weakly. “Is she alright?”

Despite himself, Nightwing felt sorry for the other man. “Yes.”

The blood seeping from Anton’s wounds shifted course as he rolled slightly to the right, searching. “Where… where is she?”

Nightwing pressed his lips together. With the state that Night-Thief was in, Nightwing didn’t think that Anton needed to hear the news. Still…

“She’s gone.”

Night-Thief’s eyes flickered uncertainly. Slowly, he laid his head back on the concrete and stared straight up at the sky. He was pale, and looked utterly drained.

Nightwing peered into the darkness, wondering when an ambulance would get there.

“What countries did you visit in the East?” Nightwing asked to keep Anton talking. He kept the concern he felt from his voice—Anton had lost a lot of blood. He pressed his black-gloved hands against Anton’s chest and shoulders, applying pressure.

Night-Thief closed his eyes.

“C’mon, Anton.” Nightwing urged. Where was that stupid ambulance? He needed to hunt down Nocturna before it was too late. His hands were already slick with Anton’s blood, and the red liquid poured out from under his hands as he tried to stop the flow. Seeing Anton’s mask lying where the crook had tossed it, he grabbed it and pressed it to Anton’s chest and shoulder. Nightwing wondered if Night-Thief would survive the night. Frankly, he wondered if Anton would survive until the ambulance arrived.

“I never would have believed—“ Anton started, then stopped.

Nightwing was silent—the man was already in enough pain. He applied more pressure to Night-Thief’s chest, but the mask was already soaked.

Anton lifted his head slightly, trying to see what Nightwing was doing. Seeming not to care about his wounds or the blood he laid back again.

Nightwing heard sirens in the distance.

“Hang in there, Anton,” he encouraged as Night-Thief’s eyes slowly closed. “C’mon!”

He pulled a packet of gauze from a compartment in his left gauntlet and applied it to the wound on Anton’s forehead... The sterile white strip immediately turned a deep red.

“Nightwing?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to die.”

He said it calmly, a simple statement of fact.

“No you’re not.” Nightwing tried to flash his best devil-may-care grin. “You’ll survive and be fine in no time.”

Anton looked to his left. They were only a few feet from the water and a deep fog was rising. “Is that ambulance coming?”

Nightwing turned to look. It should have been there by now! There was a stack of crates blocking his line of sight so he stood up.

“Yeah, I see it. It’ll be here any—”

Splash!

Nightwing whirled around. “Anton?”

He stepped past the bloody puddle on the dock, and ventured right to the edge to look into the water.

“Anton?”

He considered leaping into the water to find the villain, but decided against it. It was too dark; he’d never be able to find him.

He gave the dark water one more long look, turned and headed to the smoldering warehouse. He’d meet the fire trucks there and check to make sure Nocturna hadn’t left any unexploded bombs.