Batman Beyond #11

“Where in the hell are those reports I asked for an hour ago?” Commissioner Gordon barked as she stormed through the halls of the Gotham P.D. “And who in God’s name is on the coffee this morning, Rip Van Winkle? I want something to get through the night, not the whole damn month!”

She wasn’t in a good mood. Ever since nightfall, reports had been coming in from all over Gotham of a Batman-like figure breaking up muggings and drug deals, and damn near anything else you could imagine.

She knew it couldn’t be the new kid, Terry, because he was on his way to India with Bruce. She knew because she had agreed to look after Terry’s little brother while their mother was in the hospital. But Bruce hadn’t mentioned anything about someone else stepping in while he and the kid were gone, and that meant she had to get to the bottom of this.

As soon as she got the news of this new vigilante, she had ordered a citywide manhunt for them. No one would operate in her city without her knowing exactly what their intentions were.



Can’t believe this! Nightwing thought, easing open the window to Barbara Gordon’s office. Her flunkies almost botched that last one! Idiots were so focused on trying to bring me in, they didn’t stop to consider the fact that I had a very good reason for being there. Guess Bruce didn’t tell her… Whoever said the old fart didn’t have a sense of humor?

As soon as the window was opened just enough, he tensed his arm and shot a batarang out, planting it in the desk. He had reconfigured the suit to produce blue batarangs as opposed to the usual red.

If that doesn’t ring a bell with her, he thought, nothing will.

He eased the window back down, reactivated the window lock and blasted off into the night. There was still much more work to be done before daybreak.



The commissioner’s eyes widened as she closed the office door behind her. “Dammit, Grayson,” she whispered angrily, pulling the blue batarang free from the desk and sliding it into the inner pocket of her coat. Then, sliding the coat off, she hung it on a peg near the door and took a seat in her chair, rubbing her temples.

You’re too old for this, Dick, just like rest of us. What are you thinking?

A knock came at her door.

“Come in,” she said, a bit more harshly than she had intended.

“Reports just came in of a drug deal gone bad no more than twenty minutes away. Shots fired. That’s about all we know.”

“Get a squad down there immediately. Looks like we’re going to be on cleanup duty the rest of the night.”

“I’ll get right on it, Commissioner.”

“And make sure whoever had coffee duty tonight never touches the pot again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with just a hint of a grin on his lips.



Ding dong.

“Hold your horses, I’m coming already,” Dick said, slowly making his way down the stairs. “It figures, I get a whole two freakin’ hours of sleep, then God decides to have a little fun at my expense.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, a real barrel of laughs, big guy.”

Ding dong. Ding dong.

He checked the peephole before opening the door. It was exactly who he figured it would be.

“Hiya, Babs,” he said, motioning her inside. She stood, frozen. “Oh, yeah, the new look. Come inside and I’ll explain everything.”

She followed him in.

Over the next several minutes, he gave her a rundown of the past few days.

When he was finished, she didn’t waste any more time getting to the point. “Alright, so you’re taking over while Bruce and the kid are gone, right?”

“Right.”

“And how, exactly, are you going about this?”

“I take it you mean the suit. It’s a little something I threw together.”

“Don’t get cute with me, Grayson.”

“Relax, Babs. I’ve got so many new features on the suit, I can’t list them all off the top of my head.”

“Give me one.”

He sighed. “Fine. I gave it a Nano-Fiber Muscular Enhancement weave. Boosts my strength three times, but it cuts my reaction-time by about one-third. Trying to find a way to correct that, but until I can, I just have to stay on my toes.”

“You were really dumb enough to cut your reaction-time like that? How in the hell do you plan to keep from getting killed?”

“I’ve always been pretty good at reading people.” He smiled, then his face took on a more serious expression. “And it helps that I don’t fight like I used to. I’m about twenty years past playing nice, so I’ve got no qualms about snapping a limb, if it gets the job done.”

“That scares me, Dick,” Barbara said, crossing her arms. He could see the worry in her eyes. “If you’re so quick to break an arm now, what’s the logical extension?”

“I’ll never take a life, Babs. You know me better than that. But over the years I’ve seen too many things change. The scum in Bludhaven and Gotham have gotten nastier; they practically rule this city after dark, Barbara! Last night I saw a group of Jokerz attacking a homeless girl for no damn reason!” He lowered his head solemnly. “The bastards broke both of her legs before I showed up. They left them so mangled, I doubt she’ll ever walk again.” He looked up and a fire burned in his eyes. “Whatever I gave them wasn’t half of what they deserved,” he said bitterly.

“I assume that was the first group of Jokerz we found last night; the ones near uptown. There are a few of them who will never walk again now. Does that make you happy?”

“No, it doesn’t,” he admitted. “Not anymore, but it sure as hell did at the time. But don’t think I paralyzed those goons just to get even, Babs; you know me better than that. The scum of this city’s gotten too comfortable. The kid’s done a good job of scaring some of the lower-rung thugs, but the big dogs like Powers pulling the strings aren’t even breaking a sweat. I plan to change that. It’s about damn time criminals were terrified to set foot in Gotham again.”

“Criminals like the Joker, Two-Face, and whoever the hell else you want to name, were never scared to set foot in Gotham.”

“Those were psychopaths, not criminals; there’s a difference.”

“I’m not going to argue this point with you anymore,” Barbara relented. “But, if I think even for one second you’ve taken things too far, I’ll be on your doorstep to drag you in, whatever it takes.”

He knew she wasn’t joking. “Do what you have to do, Babs,” he said evenly. “And I’ll do the same.”



India had become known as one of the world’s least technologically-advanced countries. The majority of the nation’s leaders held to the old ways, and while that was slowly changing as the years passed, it had stunted India’s technological growth. They still had all the basic tech, they merely lacked the most cutting-edge designs.

“Okay,” Terry huffed, “I don’t know about you, but I’m taking a break.” He plopped down on the dirt floor of the cave. Rocks dug into his legs and backside, but he didn’t care, as long as he was off his feet. “I’ve been lugging this damn pack around for the past three hours. My legs are *#&$(* killing me.”

This was the second cave they had been forced to forage through. There were three main ingredients needed for Bruce to concoct a cure for Terry’s mother, and one of them, as fate would have it, could only be found atop one of India’s highest mountains. That had been a fun trip. But the caves weren’t much better, to tell the truth; it was like being trapped in an oven.

Bruce scoffed. “I traveled across the world doing this when I was your age.”

“And you expect me to believe you didn’t complain once?”

“No, but I kept my complaints to myself. You should try it sometime.” Bruce found a relatively flat rock about thigh-level and took a seat. “You’ve got five minutes,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. He tucked it back into his shirt-pocket and took a drink of water from his canteen.

Terry downed a few gulps of water from his own canteen.

“Easy, kid,” Bruce cautioned. “Don’t choke it down like that or you’ll regret it.”

Terry roughly re-corked the canteen and put it away. “Thanks,” he replied curtly. “Not sure I could survive out here if I didn’t have you to tell me how to drink my damn water.”

“I’m not. I’m telling you how to drink my water.”

“This water came from a well in the village. You don’t own it.”

“But I own the canteen you’re drinking from. So, do as I say.”

“My God, why do you have to critique everything I do?”

“Because I get a sick satisfaction out of making your life miserable,” Bruce quipped.

“Sometimes I wonder.”

“Five minutes are up,” Bruce said with a grunt as he got back on his feet. “We’d better get moving if we want to produce an antidote in time to save your mother.”

Terry hefted the large pack over his shoulders. “Yeah, let’s get moving.”

The heat was almost unbearable as they trekked further into the cave, and the additional heat their lights put out didn’t help matters. Bruce produced his handkerchief to wipe his forehead more and more frequently the deeper they went, until he finally decided to keep it at the ready, rather than dig for it every few seconds.

He knew they didn’t have much time—a few days at the most—so they had to keep forging ahead, no matter how grueling it was. He had failed to save his own mother, as well as Dick’s, but he’d be damned if he was going to let Terry lose another parent.

After a while, the two of them came to a fork in the cave, with two tunnels branching off to the left and right.

“Well, that’s just great,” Terry said through gritted teeth. “Which one do we take?”

“Tough to say. The last herb we need tends to grow around the base of a grouping of rocks. We’ll find it faster if we split up.”

“Wait, how will I know if I find it?”

“It’ll be the only plant that can grow in an environment this dark and dry. Just take a sample if you see it.”

Terry nodded and headed down the right path while Bruce took the left.

Terry’s handling all of this pretty well, considering, Bruce thought. He’s come a long way since he first put on the suit.

After about ten minutes of walking, he came to a dead end. A recent cave-in had blocked the way ahead with a wall of rocks. There was no other choice than to turn around, head back, and hope that Terry was having better luck.

A soft crunch of rock behind him let him know that he was no longer alone.



Terry found the silence oddly unnerving. For the last day or two he’d wanted some time alone, but now that he had it, he found he would rather have someone to talk to, even if that someone picked apart everything he did and told him how wrong it was.

Sometime later – he wasn’t exactly sure how long – he found what he was looking for, growing at the base of some rocks, just like Bruce had said.

He knelt down, pulled out his knife, cut off a sample and placed it in the container in his bag.

“Good,” he said aloud. “Now, time to head back and find Bruce.”

No sooner had he taken his first step back than a massive boom echoed throughout the caverns. The entire cave began to shake violently, like a mad bull fighting to throw its rider. He braced himself against the wall, barely managing to retain his footing.

It was over in a matter of seconds, and Terry sprinted back to the fork as fast as his sore legs could carry him. When he finally reached it, Bruce was nowhere to be seen.

Dammit! he thought, taking off down the other tunnel. C’mon, Bruce, you’ve got to be alright.

Terry followed Bruce’s footprints through the cave until he came across a pile of rocks with Bruce’s hand jutting from the top.

Terry rushed to his mentor’s aid, grabbing and hurling rocks as fast as he could get his hands on them. An eternity later, Bruce was free, but unresponsive. Terry saw only one option: he dropped the backpack and gently picked up Bruce and hefted him onto his shoulder.

I’ve got to make it back to the Mules outside. If I can get him there, we’ll make it back to the village no problem. I’ll figure out what else to do from there.



“Okay, computer,” Dick said, pulling off his mask, letting it hang behind his neck, “cross-analysis on the chemical residue found at the scene of the murder, with Detective Montoya’s hair sample.”

Analyzing, the richly-textured female voice responded.

Bruce is going to have a cow when he finds out I screwed with the computer’s vocal settings, Dick thought.

Positive match, the computer finished.

“Just like I thought. Looks like Renee’s kid has a nasty little habit of murdering his hookers.” He was hoping he would be wrong on this one. “Guess the apple fell pretty damn far from the tree. His mother’s going to be crushed when she hears about this. She already lost her husband to Bane, back before Bruce retired, and now she’s going to watch her son dragged off to prison for murder.” He slammed his fist against the back of the chair.

The last thing he wanted was to hurt a good woman like Renee Montoya. She had always been a big help during her time on the force. Good cops were hard to come by in Gotham, but Renee had been one of the few; too bad her son hadn’t followed in her footsteps.

Dammit, I’ve gone over everything six times, and everything still points to him.

He contemplated forgetting he’d ever found the evidence, shoving it to the back of his mind to protect the rest of Renee’s family’s reputation, but quickly banished the idea. No matter how badly he wanted to protect an old friend, he couldn’t let such an atrocity go unpunished.

Computer, open a direct line to the commissioner.

A few seconds later, Barbara’s voice caught his ears.

What is it? She sounded annoyed.

“Nice to hear your voice, too, sunshine.”

Either get to the point, or get off the line. I’ve got no time for games. I’ve yet another unsolved murder of a prostitute on my hands here and I don’t need any more grief.

“I hate to tell you this, Babs, but I think I’ve got your murderer.” He sighed.

So, it is the same murderer. I thought as much. The scenes were all too diverse, like someone was trying very hard to cover their tracks.

“That they were.”

Well, spit it out, Dick, I don’t have all night.

“Detective Jonathan Montoya,” Dick said, pained.

… You’d better be damn certain about this, Dick. He’s one of our best—

“Was one of your best, Babs. Not anymore. If you don’t do something about it, I will.”

Don’t you dare take that tone with me! Just because you’re back in that damn suit doesn’t mean you have free reign! I’m not my father, I won’t be your doormat!

“Your dad wasn’t a doormat, Babs, you know that. And I’m not asking you to be one either. But no matter what, I will not let little bastards like your detective roam free.”

Do you honestly believe I would let him go if I had the proper evidence? I’m just worried about his mother.

“I am, too. But that doesn’t change anything. You know I wouldn’t make a call like this unless I had the evidence to back it up.” His fingers clicked across the keyboard. “There, you should be getting the evidence any second now. Good luck.”

The connection was severed and Dick returned his attention to his other case. He had taken everything out of the ordinary that had happened lately and painstakingly gone over every detail. Some of the events had been witnessed first-hand, like his “rebirth” and the attack on Terry’s family; other events reported, like Man-Bat’s reawakening, and the murder of Charles Hanson and Beth Saunders — He and Bruce were both positive that Beth’s suicide had been staged.

“Everything’s happened too close together to be an accident. Too many big-bangs going off at once. Could be a coincidence … if I actually believed in coincidence.” He thought for a minute, looking for a link between everything, finding none.

Pompous bastard always was good at covering his tracks. Guess that hasn’t changed. But why has he waited ‘til now to set this up … whatever the hell “this” is. And why can’t I shake the feeling that things haven’t even reached a boil yet…

Terry’s voice boomed from the computer, ripping through the silence, nearly causing Dick to jump. Dick! Dick, can you hear me?!

“Yeah, kid, what’s up?”

It’s Bruce… There was a cave-in. Bruce is in serious trouble, and we’re in India, not exactly the most advanced tech. I need to get Bruce back to Gotham, but I’m not sure if he can survive the trip without life-support.

“It’s alright, kid, just stay calm. I’ll make arrangements to have Bruce secretly moved here on a private jet without the Wayne logo on it. I’ve still got some connections.”

Thanks, Dick. Terry out.

Silence overtook the cave once again, and Dick let out a deep, exasperated sigh, clenching his fists to the point where his knuckles turned white.

“It’s finally started,” he said to himself. “He’s made his move.”

To Be Continued…



If you wish to comment on this issue, please CLICK HERE to visit the letters page.