Batman and Robin stood in front of the door. Night was about to fall and the evening glow spread through the craggy hallways of the derelict apartment building. The state of the building reminded Robin of the abandoned apartments in Crime Alley he used to camp out in during the cold nights.
A soccer ball rolled its way in front of Robin, a little boy about his age walked into the hallway and froze in his tracks when he saw Batman and Robin.
The apartment door opened, Robin grinned at the boy and kicked the ball back at him.
The boy waved at him; Robin waved back.
“Focus on the mission Robin,” Batman said.
They stepped into the cramped doorway of the apartment. A hastily put together coat rack stood in the corner. Cockroaches scuttled on the walls, the wallpaper was starting to peel off and the tiles had cracks in them.
“Stay put,” Batman said. “Our one-eyed friend isn’t expected to be here in a while. Perfect for a little training exercise.”
Robin rolled his eyes, another training exercise. They were fun ones like combat training and gun dismantling but then there was detective work, criminology and physics. Actual physics. Sure, he didn’t have to go to school but going through those thick books in the library with Bruce watching over him like a hawk was even worse. At least Alfred gave him some ice cream afterwards.
Bruce examined the house, searching through every nook and cranny. Meanwhile, Jason looked around the house while he waited. This guy really lived in the dump (like he was one to talk), dusty tiles, peeled wallpaper. Jason saw pictures of him in a military uniform with a bunch of friends, a picture of him surrounded by what seemed to be a dozen people, he was young, around 18. As he followed the pictures he saw that the man was surrounded by less and less people until it was just him with an eyepatch and medals pinned to a black jacket. Jason had met a lot of homeless people in Crime Alley, a lot of them were vets. This guy seemed to get a better end of the deal with his apartment, the rest weren’t so lucky.
Bruce came back. “Follow me. Keep your eyes open. Observe and tell me what you see.”
And Jason observed. There was dust everywhere, for one, even on the photos and fridge. A few boxes of junk food laying here and there. They went through what few rooms they were and underneath the bed there were…
“Whoa, cool,” Jason said, grinning at the guns.
“I disabled them already,” Bruce said.
Jason frowned. “Bummer.”
Eventually they were in the living room.
“What did you see?” Bruce asked.
“Dust,” Jason said. “Lots and lots of dust.”
“Robin,” Bruce said firmly.
“Fine,” Jason said, sighing. “He is… was a soldier.”
“We knew that before coming here,” Bruce said.
“Judging by the dust he isn’t around often,” Jason said. “He only comes around once in a while to eat or whatever.”
“Good, what else?”
“That means whatever or whoever he’s working for is either very far away,” Jason said. “Or in a difficult place to reach[JP1] [JP2] [JP3] .”
“But where?” Bruce asked. “Where is he working?”
“How should I know?” Jason asked. “I can’t read minds.”
“Open your eyes,” Bruce said. “Observe.”
Jason looked around, walking around the house and then he saw it.
“One of the clothes,” Jason said. “It’s made out of that material, um…”
“Neoprene,” Bruce said. “The Master Planner works underwater.”
Bruce pressed some buttons on his gauntlet, Jason looked at him with a huge grin on his face.
“So, was I good or what?”
“Adequate,” Bruce said. “You can do better.”
“Oh, come on! I noticed the neowhatever before you did,” Jason protested.
“I noticed it as soon as I entered,” Bruce said, eyes on the gauntlet.
“That’s because you looked at everything before I did!”
“Get down!” Batman shouted suddenly, pushing Jason out of the way.
A bullet struck Bruce in the hip. He stumbled on the floor. Bradfield started to reload his gun but Robin was faster, he threw his Batarangs at the guy, striking him in the wrist. Bradfield growled in pain. Robin grinned. He leapt in the air, kicking him in the face. Bradfield reached for the gun but Jason kicked it away, tackling him to the floor. Gil tried to headbutt him but Jason dodged and put a thumb straight into his empty eye socket. Bradfield roared in pain but Jason wasn’t done yet. He started punching him across the face, punching and punching him until Bradfield’s face getting more and more bruised and his blood started to stain his knuckles.
“Robin,” Batman called out, but his voice was distant. All Jason could hear was the sound of his fists against flesh, and the screaming of the man.
“ROBIN!” Batman growled, he shoved Jason off Bradfield, pushing him to the floor. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Robin looked at the bruised and bloodied face of Gil Bradfield and Bruce’s face contorted in rage.
“I… he shot you,” Jason said.
“That doesn’t mean you beat him inches away from his life!” Batman roared. “We need to interrogate him!”
“You’re too violent, you lack discipline,” Batman said, lifting up Bradfield and making him lean on his shoulder. “We’ll talk about this when we get home. I never should’ve brought you in. You’re a criminal.” Batman said, staring straight at Jason. “Just like the rest of them.”
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