Getting into the Nykawa Center undetected was not going to be easy. The League of Assassins' security was top notch at even their most rudimentary of locations. Anywhere that was housing either Talia or Ra's would have nothing less than every resource at their disposal. Add on to that that they knew all too well the identities, and more importantly the capabilities, of the Bat Family, and Dick knew he had to be at his most aware. There was no way the League would have a large base of operations in Gotham City without personalized security measures against any denizens of the cave. Not to mention just getting to the island in and of itself would be a hassle. Boat? Too easily spotted. By air? As if they wouldn't be monitoring airspace. Underwater? That was the most reasonable of the options, which meant the League already foresaw the possibility and would have implemented the necessary measures. How then did Dick plan to get to Faraway Isle without being spotted?
He swam.
The water was biting and cold, but that didn't bother Dick. The waves continued rolling overhead, but that didn't bother him either. The distance was so far, but that... Ok, that bothered him a little bit, but not by much. Regardless, this really was the best course of options. The constantly rolling waves would make it near impossible to spot him in the water, and the motion sensors would be looking for boats and submarines. A person looked too much like a large fish, rendering him effectively invisible. He only had to endure twenty minutes of biting cold and fighting currents before he reached a rocky cliff wall. Well that, and twenty minutes of Barbara talking in his ear while he couldn't respond.
"From what I've found, the island complex was purchased ten years ago by a Mr. Lazarevic. After a little digging, it turns out that Lazarevic is one of many pseudonyms for Ra's al Ghul. No surprise there, but it does mean that the League has had a whole decade to prepare the place against any incursion. Dick, that's almost as long as you and Bruce have been active." Not that Dick didn't realize that. He knew all too well that this was not going to be easy.
"The League's computer systems here are top notch, almost as good as Kuttler's, but I managed to get a copy of the floor schematics. They've already been downloaded to your suit's computer. From just a cursory glance, the island is being patrolled by no less than two dozen assassins, but you can bet there's more not recorded on any official documentation. Then there's the walls, towers, gates, and motion sensors. Huh, that's strange. Wouldn't they have more here?"Nightwing took in a deep breath of air and lifted himself up onto a rock ledge, having finally reached the island. Now that Barbara mentioned it, it was peculiar that security wasn't even tighter than that. The League had this facility under their ownership for ten whole years. Normally it would only take them a week or two to setup this kind of a detail. Either Barbara got the wrong information, or the League took an active interest in the location only recently, and Dick refused to believe the former.
"Copy that, Oracle. I'm about to scale the island, going into radio silence. Keep an eye on my position, and see what you can do about those motion sensors.""I'm offended you didn't think that I would already be on it, Nightwing. Oracle out."Of course she was, he thought to himself as he began scaling the precarious rock wall. Babs was a professional, and always three steps ahead. She took after Bruce in that way. Him? He was much better at flying by the seat of his pants, proven when one of his handholds gave out about three quarters of the way up. A large stone, about the size of a man's torso, crumbled from the wall when he put his weight on it. The sedimentary trap caused a minor rock slide on the way down, knocking other stones from the wall as it fell and landing in the river with a large splash. As the first large rock fell from its place, Dick flipped himself over, then kicked off of the large stone. Thanks to Newton's third law, the erstwhile sidekick propelled himself upward several more feet, saving himself some time while his platform shot down faster than gravity alone would allow. The noise caught the attention of an armed guard, who curiously looked over the side of his wall with a large flashlight. Utilizing his newfound momentum, Dick swung to his right and grabbed hold of a rocky outcropping, where he deftly spun downward and hung to the bottom of the outcrop.
Seconds passed. Then minutes passed. Finally the guard's light moved someplace else, and Dick breathed a small sigh of relief. He swung back up to the top of the outcropping and gave himself a moment to catch his breath. With that done, he hopped up to the island's ledge and lifted himself up. With just his toes he kept himself balanced on the six inches of rock and dirt between a hundred foot watery drop and a perfectly flat wall he had to scale.
Glad the easy part's done! I was getting bored. Dick Grayson ran a finger along the wall, testing the texture. Concrete. Good, easily climbable. Slipping his hands into a pouch on his utility belt, Dick attached a set of claws to each glove. With a childlike eager grin, he placed one hand onto the side of the wall, digging the blades into the man-made stone construct. With one large heave and one small breath, he was off.
Clouds rolled in, blanketing the night sky and ruining Dick's view of the heavens above. Just was well. The lights and pollution in Gotham meant that no stars were ever visible as it was, so as least he could entertain himself with the thoughts of cloud shapes. Oh look, there was a bird. And a plane. Come to think of it, finding Bruce would have been a whole lot easier if they had called in Clark. Why didn't he again? Lightning lit up the dark clouds above and Dick made out the rough shape of a bat in the night sky. In an instant he remembered why, and sighed. The fact that he neared the top of the wall, and subsequently the attached guard tower, brought him back to the present.
Dick peaked his head over the railing to see a large man, about six and a half feet tall, patrolling around the tower. He wore all black, carried an assault rifle, and a pair of binoculars hung from his neck. In the center of the tower was a chair and table, which housed a short-wave radio. Nightwing had the fortune of arriving just as the radio received an incoming transmission spoken in Arabic.
<"Tower One checking in. All remains clear."> Dick ducked his head back beneath the railings as the guard turned toward the radio and relayed his own message back.
<"Tower Two checking in. Thought I had something, but it was just erosion. All clear."> The second Dick heard the radio make contact with the table, he shoved off of the tower wall with his feet, flipping up and landing in a crouched position right in front of the guard. In the same motion he pulled out two escrima sticks and threw them, one at the guard's head and the other at the radio.
<"Patrol One checking in, all cl-"> Crunch! The radio smashed beneath the force of the escrima, while the other struck the guard right in the head, and both sticks clattered to the ground. Had Dick performed this tactic on one of the many thugs in Gotham, or Bludhaven, they'd have been knocked unconscious instantly. League assassins were made of tougher stuff. The man felt the impact, which hurt and threw him off balance, but he kept his wits about him. As his large form stumbled back he lifted his assault rifle at his assailant in an attempt to shoot Grayson dead.
Can't let a shot get off! Continuing in the same fluid motion, Nightwing ejected a small bird-shaped shuriken from a wrist-mounted compartment into his fingers and tossed it forward. His target was not the assassin guard, but his rifle. A mere split second before the man's finger touched the trigger, the wing ding struck the gun's safety, switching it on.
Gotta finish it! Keeping the momentum going, Nightwing somersaulted into the guard, still dazed and confused, then locked his legs around the man's face. Flinging his body backward, Dick slammed the guard's head onto the ground.
Now he was unconscious. Dick sprang up and dusted himself off, an excited grin plastered upon his face. This guy was going to have a rather bad concussion and the worst migraine of his life once he woke up, but he'd live.
"Oracle, anything you found say how long between check-ins from all the guards?" he asked in a whisper, taking the time to gather his escrima and wing ding.
"No, there's nothing here about it. Sorry Nightwing," came the synthesized voice Barbara used when dealing with enemies that could potentially hack their communications.
"Don't worry about it. I'll just have to keep moving and hope for the best. When I get home, I'll need some kind of triathlon medal or something, don't you think?" Dick pocketed his weapons and inspected the facility around him using the unconscious guard's binoculars.
"Let's just focus on finishing the mission first." Dick smiled. Disguised voice or not, he knew Babs and he could tell she was holding back a laugh right now.
"Looks like a patrol unit is about to enter the main facility," Dick informed her as he looked over the schematics she sent to him.
"Should take me right to the main office. Whether it's a head or a daughter, I should be meeting a demon there. I'll just slip right in through the door when they go inside.""How do you plan to accomplish that?" Barbara asked as he straightened up. The patrol was heading his way, about to enter a security door at the base of the tower he stood upon.
"You gotta ask? I'm going to spread my wings and fly." Dick stepped up onto the railing with one foot, leaning forward.
"Careful. That's a sixty foot drop. You're not Superman.""Nope," he answered back, latching a bungee cord to the railing.
"Just a circus brat."One. Two. Three. Four. Go! Dick Grayson leaned forward and dove straight down from the guard tower, letting gravity do its job. The air stung his still wet face as it raced by, parting his hair. Two patrolling guards stood in front of the security door now and swiped a keycard. The doorway opened on hydraulic power. Five. Six. Twist! Dick curled up into a ball, spun around, then straightened out to swing through the doorway, right behind the patrolling guards. He made it through just in time as the door closed on his cord and severed it. As the for the guards, Nightwing barrelled right into them, knocking them aside and onto the ground. Hard. Yeah, they're not getting up from that for a while.
Grayson stood up himself, stretching his sore joints from that dangerous stunt. As he did so, he kept an eye out to scan his immediate surroundings. The very first item to catch his eye was an old security camera pointed right at his face. Uh-oh. Of course there would be a security camera right in the front door! The place used to be a prison institution, the League would be idiots to take advantage of that resource!
"Don't worry about the security cameras. I've already hacked the feed and put it on loop, so I'm the only one seeing you right now. You should totally see the look on your face, though!" Dick chuckled and shook his head at the camera.
"How is it that I've gone toe to toe with Clayface, Deathstroke, and Trigon the Terrible, but you consistently find new ways to be the scariest person in my life?""I think that's the most flattering thing you've ever said to me. Now get going."Without another word, Grayson checked the schematics on his wrist-mounted computer. Right, then left, through the old cafeteria, elevator down, secret underground facility, and personal office. Alright, no problem. Should be easy, right? Right. Well, got to get going. Dick dashed down the hall, taking a right, and quickly surveyed ahead. All clear, good. He dashed down once more, took a left and surveyed again. One guard, but not a regular one. League assassin, not in plain sight. A hooded man hidden behind an old jail cell posing as part of the environment. In a rush Dick pulled his head back behind the corner, confident the assassin hadn't yet spotted him. Alright, how best to get passed this vigilant assassin? A distraction wouldn't be likely to work as no doubt they'd be used to the open guards patrolling the halls, making sounds. Climbing up wasn't an option either, as the iron bars of the cells doors were the only things to grab onto, which would make too much noise. Disguise? Going back to loot one of the guards of his clothes would take too much time; discovery would be guaranteed. What could he do? Dick decided to take another look just in case he had missed something, just in time to see a metal blade swinging horizontally at his face.
Ducking down, the blade struck the corner of the wall. Well, so much for not being spotted. Nightwing thrust a fist at the assassin's gut while he was crouched down, but the assassin spun out of the way, pulling his blade out of the wall in the process. The man then proceeded to swing with expert form at Dick, who was quickly put on the defensive. He had to bob, duck, and weave back and forth in order to avoid getting sliced, losing ground all the while. Damn, this assassin was good. Judging by his form he had to be one of...
Talia's elite guard. That answered the question as to who was in charge here. While Dick was processing that information, the elite assassin landed a kick on his chest, knocking the vigilante onto his back.
"I will present your head to my mistress!" the assassin shouted, bringing his blade down on Dick's neck. In respond Dick blocked the blade between his two escrima in a cross guard.
"Pathetic. What do you hope to accomplish with your little sticks?" The assassin pressed more of his strength into the blade with both hands. He had leverage on his side, and so Dick fought hard to prevent the blade from reaching his face but it continued to drop inch by inch. That's when Dick smiled and clicked a button on his escrima. Instantly the escrima lit up with electricity. The current flowed from the sticks to the metal sword, and into the body of the assassin who convulsed for several seconds, then slumped off to the side.
Breathing hard, Dick switched off the taser settings of his escrima and stood up.
"I think the answer is pretty shocking, don't you?" Grayson's face immediately contorted with displeasure as soon as the words left his mouth. Wow. That... That was pretty bad. Not your best moment, Grayson. Not by a long shot. He picked up the assassin with a heavy huff, then the man's sword, and returned him to his post behind the jail cell.
With that out of the way, Nightwing made use of his grapple gun for the first time since arriving at Faraway Isle. Rather than the simple yet brilliant plan of heading right in through the doors to that cafeteria, he went with the more prudent and cautious option of hitting up the air vent. In one swift movement he launched himself through the air and slid through the vent grate, forcing it aside. Inside the air was cold, and dusty. If it weren't so closed in, it might have reminded him of the cave. Then again, Alfred kept a clean house, so maybe the dust was out of place as well. Either way, slowly but surely Dick Grayson crawled through the vent system above the cafeteria. He eyed the room through a grate and was glad he did. Down on the floor was a whole squadron of men: guards, assassins, elite assassins, and quite a few guns. Not even Bruce would have made it through that in a straight fight, even by catching them off guard.
Once on the other side, Dick eyed what he could through the vent grating. He could see the elevator he needed to use to go down, but not much else.
"Oracle, see anything below me?" he whispered.
"Just the elevator. You're all clear." Excellent! Dick didn't expect to be so lucky. Carefully he opened the grate, then allowed himself to fall through with cat-like grace.
"Wha-" shouted a League assassin as Dick spotted the woman, and twisted in the air to land a kick down on her shoulder blade. She went down, and he quickly followed up with a takedown by tasing her. Unfortunately she wasn't the only one around, and Dick quickly found himself surrounded by six assassins of various size, weaponry, and ability. At least two of them were of Talia's elite guard.
So much for all clear. The cameras must have reset."Uh... Take me to your leader?" he asked sheepishly, maintaining his fighting pose.
Leaves