Post by The Wonderful Wachter on Apr 23, 2013 7:25:57 GMT -5
Ultimate ‘Haven #2
The Red Pill Pt. 1
How Deep The Rabbit Hole Goes
We buried Jason today. It was a simple ceremony but in that simplicity, he probably got more than he thought he deserved. A rat born on the streets, buried in the family plot of the Kane’s up in Gotham. Of course, Mr. Kane didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea but when Kate said they were going to… Well, he had no choice but to listen. My dad came up with the lie about Jason’s death. Faked the time, the location… the cause. Nothing to associate him with ‘Haven’s Valentine’s Day Blockbuster. Nothing to tie him to the last act of heroism that stopped chaos from spreading across Gotham and Blüdhaven.
No one would know of his sacrifice except us.
Kate cried. Probably the first time I ever saw that. She blamed herself. A part of me blames her too. She turned her back on Jason, on the mission, and left him alone. He’d still be here if… if… Stop it, Steph. Jason was headstrong. He’d have seen himself as expendable with or without his partner.
I just wish he hadn’t left me alone.
Left the ‘Haven alone.
If mad scientists have their laboratories then what do you call the lair of an eccentric information broker with a penchant for collecting the strangest things?
Jason loved coming here. Perhaps it was the not-so-latent klepto urges of his to blame. Or maybe it was the fact some of his best trophies were on display. A grin spread his cheeks from ear to ear as he gazed up with pride at the shelves on the far side of the darkened loft. Relics of the legendary Outlaws. Relics that he had stolen at bequest of the mythic Cluemaster. It had been a nearly perfect score. Nearly perfect… and if he had been successful, he wondered how his life would have changed.
Would they still have taken him on as a student? Would he still be the protégé to some of, if not the, world’s greatest masters in their various fields? Or would Cluemaster have found a different use for him?
There they were… The tiny patch that could be hidden anywhere on the body, the bluish-black vial that he had to go all the way up to Gotham to steal, the domino-mask that had been especially tricky to find and required a few days casing, and his personal favorite… The batarang from his partner before she became his partner. Oh, and of course there was Wildcat’s championship boxing gloves. That one had been too easy. Only one object was missing – well two if you count the sword in a different country – and he was still casing it for perfection.
“I think he’s been made,” the feminine voice echoed towards Jason as he continued his usual exploration.
“Oh? By who?”
“Your daughter.”
Jason’s gut clenched at those words while his fingers itched to pull off the glass casing surrounding a dummy. The dummy had no head and the body seemed riddled with bullet holes. It was among the prize of Cluemaster’s collection. Its security covered both traditional and the supernatural. He recognized the mystical wards scattered about the pedestal except the strange thing was… they were meant to keep something in, not out. The first time he tried to touch it, Cluemaster had nearly raised his voice – something he never did – for the boy to back away. And to back away quickly.
“Well, she is my daughter,” chuckled the refined voice of Cluemaster. “What did he do now?”
“Attempted to get to the school’s roof the hard way.”
“Hey!” Jason shouted, moving through the trophy cases and gadget shelves towards the source of the voices. “It wasn’t attempted. I did scale the outside of the building, And then I jumped back down before any teacher could catch me.”
Arthur Brown – better known as Artie or Clue to Jason – the infamous info-broker and purveyor of unusual requests to any who could pay his price or return the favor smirked at the young teen. He was a man of middling years with his blond hair turning gray around the temples but the only thing Jason bothered to remember were the eyebrows. Artie’s eyebrows always looked arched. It was like he had a face lift gone wrong.
“Did you get it?” he asked, leaning back in his chair situated before both your traditional flat screen monitors and holographic projections.
The boy held out his hand for Arthur to quickly palm the flimsy piece of paper in it.
“Wait… You put him up to it?” hissed the disapproving Kate Kane or rather, Batwoman, as Jason was supposed to refer to her now. With a face the whitest ivory, hair the color of blood, and black body armor, she cut a beautiful and haunting figure in the dim light of the loft. That haunting figure was one the criminals of the Haven knew well. More called her a ghost than a vigilante.
“I did no such thing,” Arthur was all smiles as Kate’s face failed to turn the red of his shirt. “I simply requested he procure some relatively harmless information on the Falcones through one of the younger members of their extended family.” He gave the most innocent of shrugs. “It was he who chose the method.”
“What information was that?”
“Classified.”
“What did he get out of the deal?”
“Also classified,” Jason inserted.
Kate turned her rather impressive and terrifying glare on the boy. Felt like the white eyes of her mask were staring into his very soul. “You have been told not accept any more offers from him.”
“You,” Jason crossed his arms and met the gaze unflinchingly, “accept them all the time.” He nodded towards the monitors plastered with the case that had brought them to this corner of the Haven. “That’s why we’re here, right?”
“I take lead… you follow, you listen. You. Do. What. I. Say.” That was a lot of emphasis on the final five words. “And I say that it better not have been for something illegal or you really don’t want to know the grinder I’ll make sure you’re put through when I find out.”
Jason bowed his head in acceptance as his masters had taught him to do when he was in the wrong… even when he didn’t feel he was in the wrong. “It wasn’t anything more illegal than what we do every night.”
“Are we finished?” inquired the soft spoken Cluemaster, eyebrows still quirked up.
“For now, what did you call us here f—“
“Daaaaamn,” Jason interrupted and pushed Artie out of his way when he finally noticed the woman who seemed to be in the center of every image. “Who’s she and can you print me out a poster sized pic to plaster on my ceiling?”
“Jay…” came Kate’s I so do not approve tone.
Eyebrows up, cheeks still smiling, Cluemaster patted Jason’s shoulder understandingly. “She, my dear boy, is what the criminal underworld has been calling the White Rabbit. A high-ends goods thief that steals from the bad and plants on the worst in effort to cause what I can only presume is a gang-war.”
“Any ideas who she is?” Kate leaned in as well when Arthur brought up the clearest image… The one Jason really wouldn’t mind having.
“My recognition software, though rarely wrong, says she is one Miss Jaina Hudson.”
Kate’s mask adjusted appropriately to the perplexed twist in her features. “Jaina is half-Indian and if that timestamp is correct, she was at a hotel opening with my ex-sister-in-law that night.”
A second image was brought up next to the first and Jason had to admit, White Rabbit was not Indian even if there was an uncanny resemblance according to the computer. The Rabbit had the sweetest, porcelain skin – and so much of it was seen in thanks to the fact her mask was more covering than her corset, thigh-high, and gloves combo – with long platinum hair and sexy bunny ears. Jaina, by comparison, was still beautiful but it was a dignified beauty. One befitting a diplomat’s daughter according to the information aside her picture. Dark skin, little make-up, lovely brown tresses.
“Albino identical-twin,” suggested Jason after staring at the two images for far too long while the adults discussed the case.
“Impossible,” Batwoman snapped immediately.
“Now, now,” began Artie, “You’d be amazed about the kind of albinos out there. I know of this one that also has a second skin con—“
“Not on topic, Clue.” Kate let her cape drape over her body as she stood straight. “What’s your predictions?”
“She hasn’t hit the Desmonds yet and given the chatter I’ve been hearing as of late, they’ll probably be one of the plants. Meaning we can predict at least one of her next moves. Doubly so since the Minhs were just hit and they’re in cahoots with the family in the drug trade.”
Kate clenched her jaw, staring at the various images of homes, goods, and warehouses that Cluemaster brought up as he spoke. The Desmonds were the biggest gang in the Haven. They provided the best enforcers, thieves, and launders for promotion on up to the big time in Gotham. But they also had numerous legitimate fronts that made taking them down more than a touch difficult… If they went to war with the Minhs… Chances were Gotham would get involved.
“Surveillance then. I’ll hit the north, case the homes. Redbird—“
“Hood,” corrected Jason.
“Then where is it, boy?” joked Artie with his dumb eyebrows.
Jason’s face flushed crimson with embarrassment. Since accepting him on as a student and a partner, Jason had been trying to get Kate and his masters to call him the Red Hood after one of the Haven’s greatest legends. A hero since their founding. And sure, the name had been perverted over time as criminals took it and did despicable things but the origin remained true to this day. The Hood was Blüdhaven’s guardian patron. Besides… The last Red Hood to earn incredible fame had been one helluva thief and Jason had some admiration for that.
But it seems without a hood or some red mask… and something else that the Outlaws weren’t letting him in on… They refused to call him such.
“It was stripped from my costume,” muttered the boy. “I couldn’t see and my master used it to throw me into the wall…”
He missed the hood. It had looked cool. Made him look at least a fraction more intimidating that he did now with the dark red and black light polymer armor. Plus, he just couldn’t agree with the yellow bits such as his para-cape and utility belt. Yellow was not his color. It was no one’s color.
“Redbird it is then.”
He scowled beneath dark bangs, his domino mask showing far more expression than Batwoman’s allowed.
Kate was not amused by the diverging tangent. “You’ll take the docks.”
As if he couldn’t guess that. She was still too scared he couldn’t say no to his thieving tendencies.
Ah, the docks. Home to Haven’s worst scum, both the homeless and those that took advantage of the homeless. Had he not lucked out with Kate’s support, Jason could have ended up here. Here… in the dark… the dank… the wet. He could dream all he wanted that some gang would have kept him on as a thief but there was just as much a chance that he’d make one bad move and find himself on a street corner as one of the high-risk victims he now worked to protect.
Surveillance as a superhero, or rather, a sidekick, wasn’t much different than casing a joint when he had been a top notch pickpocket and master of B&E. Only difference was now he had fancy tech to aid him in his efforts. A part of him enjoyed it. Another part hated it because they couldn’t leave the equipment around for long and some of it was too good to self-destruct and replace. They couldn’t risk the bugs and cameras being found so the use was as needed for the good stuff. Always for the static filled crap.
He usually got stuck retrieving their gear.
”What was the answer you got for number four?” the chirpy voice of Cluemaster’s daughter asked in his ear.
Stephanie… the bane of his current existence. According to her father, she had an uncanny ability to know stuff and after a single encounter with Jason as Redbird, she seemed to know stuff about him. The climbing of the school-face certainly on a bet didn’t help matters. Now she tried to get him to trip up while he was on the job and couldn’t possibly answer a homework question.
He’d show her. There was a computer built into his wristwatch and he’d scanned all his text-books and had the computer do it for him whenever he didn’t have the time to complete his homework. Alternately, he’d justify it for occasions just like now for when Kate or his master eventually caught him.
After securing the camera in place across from a warehouse belonging to the Desmond family – the Nyx Pharmaceutical branch – Jason brought up the problem. The blue hologram hovered in the air centimeters from his arm. “S equals five R plus seven over two.”
“It’s just five R.”
Jason knew that and smirked at his intended mistake. Nothing like faking doing homework at home than faking being wrong.
”You forgot to—“
“Hold that thought,” he stopped her.
An image alert overlapped his math homework showing a figure with two long ear-like objects flapping off its head as it snuck through a series of storage-boxes two blocks away. Well… That was quick.
“Call you back, later.”
Jason ended the call before she could say goodbye and brought out his grappling hook. Off and into the night.
The burgundy greatcoat did little to fight off the chill Arthur felt deep in his bones. He didn’t like being out here. He hadn’t like being out here since before Stephanie had been born and he had made the legal part of his fortune. The field made him feel awkward… alone. People died out here. And the person he was meeting had a habit of causing those deaths.
Such was the life of the Illustrious Cluemaster. He’d rather be behind his computers or with his family but certain sacrifices did have to be made for the greater good.
Arthur had given Batwoman and Redbird enough information, all of it entirely correct, to keep them far, far away from his meeting place tonight. The former definitely wouldn’t approve. Might even finally find a reason to bring him in or tear down his operation. That’s how personal it was to her.
The streets were empty, not unusual for this time of day, after all… Arthur had planned everything perfectly to account for the patterns of those who lived here and those who had prey in the vicinity. He had a window of twelve to seventeen minutes where he could stand here uninterrupted. But he wouldn’t stand. He’d walk slowly down the street as he waited.
The figure showed up with seven minutes to spare. He couldn’t make out the face beneath the hood for obvious reason. The man was physically fit, athletic; the crimson windbreaker did nothing to hide that. It also probably did nothing to fight off the cold, winter air but that would defeat the purpose of the disguise.
“Been a long time, Arthur.” The educated voice was at odds with the appearance.
“Not so long. You needed me what was it… four, five years ago?”
“Careful now.”
“Always,” the two men gradually made their way to the bus bench where the newer arrival had no problem in sitting while Arthur hesitated and wished he had brought some wipes along or at least a newspaper. “I’m happy to see life has been good for you.”
“Can’t say the same for you… Lay off the botox.”
“My face naturally looks this way, thank you very much.”
“Sure it does.” The hooded figure leaned forward and steepled his fingers together. “What do you have for me?”
Arthur took a deep breath. He was not a gambling man. He didn’t like to take risks even if he had an insatiable curious nature to learn secrets and horde important objects. Every action he took was an intended one with intended effects…. But now things had reached a point where he couldn’t just know. He had to guess.
He hated guessing.
“The balance of power is shifting, both here and in Gotham.”
“The rumors of another Bat are true, huh? What does that matter?”
“I…” Arthur tried to peer inside that dark hood. He couldn’t find the phrasing. Another breath. “They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed.”
The man had an amazing control of his reactions. Arthur expected something a tad more violent. Instead, what he got, was a sigh. “I couldn’t stop them for long, eh? Hell… Probably my fault, isn’t it? The actions I’m taking… The Gallows.” Another sigh. “I put that life behind me, Arthur.”
“You were the best.”
“They called me the worst.” The red hooded figure stood up. “She’ll be after me with a vengeance, you know…”
“I can’t stop her.”
“Don’t expect you to.”
Arthur watched him go from the bench. No other words had been exchanged between the pair. The entire conversation had taken at best six minutes. Within another three, an old bag lady approached him at the bench. Another four and the bus had arrived.
“I think I recognize this place from Storage Wars,” joked Jason quietly atop his perch in the shadows. He had warned Kate of the intrusion and had proceeded to investigate on his own. He could do that much at least.
Crummy security. Not even motion sensitive lights. Back in his old life, he could have broken into any one of those boxes within a few minutes. Now, a single minute would be generous. There was a single security guard four rows away, stationed at the entrance. There should have been two. One there, one patrolling. But hey, who needs to protect this place? It was paid to not be protected.
He knew a few squatters made it their home. It was also a stop for certain other endeavors that didn’t always need a mattress. All in all, not a place for a teenage boy to be on a school night even when he dressed in tights and fought crime.
Jason dropped down before the open box. White Rabbit had already hit it. A squatter’s place from the looks and the smell. He wouldn’t be surprised to find it was the home to one of the Minh’s customers. Yet… were was the person who called it home?
A shadow moved.
Jason was off. He dashed down the row and followed the bouncing shadow to the east. Turn. Down another row. Where was she… She was gone. Jason spun around and saw that the figure had somehow doubled-back on him. Clouds moved from across the moon to confirm his suspicions that he was chasing White Rabbit and she did seem to be late for a very important date at the rate she was moving. He brought out a pair of bolas just as she took a left down another row of storage boxes.
Damn.
He followed quickly only to find that she wasn’t down the row she had turned… again. Scuffling… One row over. How in the hell? Screwing traditional chasing, Redbird climbed atop the boxes to chase her from above. Ah ha. There she went. He could see those bouncing beauties from afar and could hear her heels. But…
Jason blinked. He swore he saw two of them. The second was directly across from him on another row of boxes. His eyes glanced down to find the other gone. His senses were playing tricks on him.
White Rabbit aimed a gun at him. Without thinking, he threw a batarang at it just as it went off. The result ended in a draw. He knocked the gun out of her hand as she fell backwards while the impact of the bullet threw him off his own row. Shoulder pounding in pain, he managed to avoid hitting his head just barely and leaped back to his feet. He took off running around the corner and collided smack dab with White Rabbit.
How that was possible was the least important thought in Jason’s mind at that moment. The pair tumbled across the cement, a pile of limbs fumbling about until they came to a stop with Jason pinning her to the ground, one hand on her wrists… the other not on her neck like he intended. He’d been off. Just barely and he found the situation not entirely uncomfortable.
The light of the moon gave him the perfect glance of her heaving chest and her angry scowl. His eyes had trouble focusing on the latter. All he could think about as adrenalin and other things rushed through his body was about the mole on her left breast. This… was something he’d been trained for. Well… not this exact situation. There was something about controlling one’s urges in the back of his mind so he covered his mistake by quickly moving to lock her in place with his forearm.
“Enjoying yourself, kid?” White Rabbit taunted.
“Honestly,” Jason replied, “can’t say vigilante-school prepared me for this.”
White Rabbit smiled with her perfect lips and batted her eyelashes beneath the pink mask. “Perfect.”
Jason’s world went black.
The sharp pain in the back of his head and a foul smell awaited Jason when he came to. Kate stood over him, cradling his head and returning the vial to her belt.
“I take it, she got away?” were his first words.
“Seems so.”
“She had a partner.”
“At least you found out that much.” Kate paused and pursed her lips. “Redbird… What’s your hand doing?”
Jason glanced down at his hand where much to his chagrin, he found it flexing and squeezing on its own. Quickly, he tried to come up with something witty to say in response. “Uh… The body has a separate memory than that of the mind and the soul?”
The white eyes of Kate’s mask narrowed at him.
Okay… that was more profound than witty.
The night wasn’t over just yet. Jason had one last place to sneak through. It was a blocky building located on the outskirts of Blüdhaven. One made up of numerous parts. The center was especially large and square. Entirely utilitarian in design. Not something he usually cased. A plane soared by overhead for a landing on the nearby airfield. That was good, it’d cover any noise he might make.
He dashed low across the grounds and sidled up against the gray wall. No movement from inside. No sounds. No lights. All good signs. He searched for his point of entry, the single window on the south side, away from the street and any lights in the distance. Jason pried open the window and clambered inside.
His head was still ringing from earlier. Kate had told him to go straight home and be careful when he slept. He still had school in the morning. Morning that was coming far too soon. Briefly he steeled himself before relaxing… Nothing on the edge of his senses. Still quiet.
Jason gave himself a sigh of relief.
“You broke into the wrong house, boy.”
The words came from a spirit in the darkness. In an instant, his legs were kicked out from under him and he found himself at the mercy of an unseen assailant for the second time that night.