[KBP] Nightfall

[greentheywere]

'Perimeter secure,' M'gann reported, for about the fifth time that night.

She heard Robin's equally routine "Good work," and settled back in front of a post near the rear entrance. They'd spent most of the afternoon tearing their hair out, trying to find where M'gann would be most ready to restrain the assassins.

That assassins were involved at all was... not wholly new, nor even unexpected, but still not exactly what they'd been briefed for. Strange deaths, yes, with archaic, distinctive weapons, but that this was an organized, practiced, efficient force... well, that was disturbing.

It was uncomfortable to acknowledge. They did ensure that the bad guys would never act again-- something the League could never guarantee, not while Lex Luthor was rich, Ra's al Ghul was immortal, and Queen Bee was an absolute dictator. Not while Hugo Strange was running Belle Reve, and how long had that gone on?

It made her... doubt herself. Doubt their methods. Batman and Robin both had been quick to disabuse her of that idea, and she'd felt such a strong passion from them that she'd had to dampen the link to avoid reading too deeply into their minds, and while she believed their words, especially about justice, rehabilitation, and just--just the possible error of killing an innocent because how could you ever be sure, well.

They did ensure the bad guys would never act again.

'Sweeping again throughout my telepathic range,' she said, and she felt Robin's amusement.

'Wow, you're preempting me,' he laughed. 'Maybe I should take a nap.'

'Dude, I would so kill you, Wally answered, and he made a good show of sounding serious. 'Time zones are bad enough when all of you guys live on the East Coast and I'm in the Midwest. This other side of the planet thing is brutal.'

At least they were still joking. That meant she was safe to keep musing, so long as she didn't lose sight of the mission.

It was a large, grand house, and Zatanna was inside, performing at a get-together for the owner and his friends. Hitting the beat in the local underworld, the owner had tenuous links to an organization that would kidnap middle-class girls and sell them into prostitution somewhere in Europe. Nothing could be proven -- not even by Batman -- but the links were there, and he had a lot in common with the victims of the sudden deaths Batman had been looking into.

They'd been watching for a few days, sometimes M'gann shapeshifted into a generic, unnoticeable housemaid to get closer, and hoping that this group wouldn't target anyone else. It wasn't particularly efficient, but they had to try.

Had to-- and there it was.

'Miss Martian to team. At the very edge of my range, north-north-east quadrant of the estate. Unfamiliar minds approaching.'

'North-north-east,' Robin repeated. 'Public records show nothing but unspoiled forestry there, although my satellite scan registered a higher-than-norm heat signature.'

He paused.

'Don't move in just yet. Guy's still inside. But take your places, everyone. It's showtime.'

Comments

[oneblackcat]

And at that, Omi sat up and stiffened with a look torn between shock and horror. Those names, and that context... it wasn't completely accurate, but it had enough accurate detail to be alarming. He shifted his gaze warily to Batman, taking his time to find the proper way to phrase what he wanted to say.

"Maybe it would be helpful to both of us if you told me what you already know first..."

[decentdad]

The grim satisfaction of success. Satisfaction, yes, but not entirely rewarding.

Batman inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the request. "As much as I'd like to," he began, "when criminals who have successfully, consistently evaded conviction suddenly start dying off, I can't believe there's a good reason for it. So I began investigating, and the commonalities I found linking the cases were odd. None of the murders were being actively investigated by the police and not a single shred of evidence had been recorded. Your police chief couldn't hide the fact that the murders happened in most cases, but he completely shut down investigations enough times to make me suspicious. When I found out he and his brother, as well as all four of his brother's children, had both been murdered, by something as archaic as a sword, no less, it seemed clear to me that something deeper was going on.

"But even the most determined criminal can't get away clean every time. Takatori suppressed evidence, but there were enough cops who were open to my... persuasions, and let me analyze their undocumented evidence. Several of the criminals murdered were also by sword, and often, the victims of the sword would be along people who'd been hanged, strangled, cut with a series of knives, or shot through with arrows."

[oneblackcat]

Omi listened to most of that in grim silence. Okay. Batman basically knew that a small group of assassins existed and what weapons they used. He knew that the police chief was involved until his murder. And he knew that all of the targets were themselves vile criminals. That last bit might anger him later, but for now, Omi's attention caught more on a bit of mere passing information. He looked confused.

"Four...?" He asked himself. Hirofumi. Masafumi. Ouka...

[decentdad]

Batman frowned-- although it would be hard to notice.

"From my research, Shuichi Takatori was a lifelong bachelor, but his brother had three sons with his wife, and a daughter with his mistress. The eldest son was said to have died in a car accident, but I have crime scene photographs that show he was impaled beforehand. The second-eldest's body was never recovered, so I can only conjecture, but the daughter was shot shortly after, while the youngest son died years before during a kidnapping."

And given the recent revelations about Roy Harper, that stirred up all kinds of impotent, paternal rage-- and fear. He remembered back when they thought they'd found Roy, and the months Oliver spent searching, he'd been indefatigable, but -- now they knew -- so out of his mind with grief that he'd been strung along just where the Light wanted him.

He remembered being told Harper was missing, and the first thing he'd done was run up to Dick's room to make sure he was still there. He hadn't quite realized, up until that moment, just what Dick was to him, and from that moment forward to when Dick got the brilliant idea to investigate Cadmus out of spite, he'd never, ever allowed himself any kind of uncertainty when it came to knowing exactly where the boy was at all times.

[oneblackcat]

Omi stayed quiet. Batman was wrong. That had to be a rare thing for him. But he was. Maybe in the sense that the boy that went by the name Mamoru Takatori died in that incident, but in the sense most people talked about when referring to death, it wasn't true.

The question was, did he speak up. Omi did not particularly care to confide such traumatic and private information about himself. He'd never even told Weiss about the kidnapping. He was also curious. What did Batman know about it? Did he maybe know something that he himself didn't?

What will it be, Omi. Risk exposure for the chance to learn more, or stay quiet, and pass it by?

"That kidnapping... What happened? Do you know?"

Why didn't Papa pay...?

[decentdad]

The thing Batman wanted right then was eye contact. A head-on look at his reactions.

"Why would you be interested?" he asked, finally, after a long contemplation. He had a theory. It might explain why one brother had killed the other.

"Do you know something about who was behind the kidnapping already?"

It might also explain the ransom... he'd followed the case, discreetly. He'd been in Tokyo at the time, attending a conference for WayneTech. If Reiji knew his brother was the kidnapper, perhaps he also knew that refusing to pay the ransom wouldn't lead to the boy's death. And, therefore...

[oneblackcat]

Omi continued to avoid that eye contact. If it were possible, he probably would have shrunk into the wall itself. His kidnapping and the subsequent refused ransom was a source of shame that ran as deep as his yearning to understand why it had been necessary. Parents loved their kids unconditionally, didn't they? Why had his stopped? What had he done?

"Not really..." He never knew their names, and half the time couldn't remember their faces. And while this might be a preferable subject to Weiss and Kritiker, that didn't make him eager to get into it. He'd just wanted to see if Batman knew why he'd been abandoned. To know about Weiss, he had to be a good detective, and he'd clearly done some research on his family's history too. It was probably wishful thinking.

[decentdad]

Eyes narrowing, he was struck by how strongly the kid was reacting and trying not to react at the same time.

The boy worked for Shuichi Takatori. Was he about the right age?

"Why did you react to it?"

He was pressing, and mercilessly, he was aware. But he needed some sort of rapport with the assassin in order to get anywhere, and get the really important information.

And he was... well. He sympathized, somewhat. He could understand all too painfully the temptation to kill, to really put an end to things, but at the same time, if you go there, how do you go back? Killing was a remarkably easy thing to do-- shooting someone in the chest was much simpler, much less time consuming. Pragmatism was enticing, sometimes, and he was so young. Maybe he hadn't had Bruce's resources.

He thought about Dick, a particularly snap decision he made one day, in one moment of intense empathy, and quite possibly the most worthwhile thing he'd done with his life and resource. Simple multiplication, it stood to reason, and--

He might be acting, the Batman had to remind himself. He seems worn down, but it might be an act. He might not really be remorseful, but that's all the more reason to press harder.

[oneblackcat]

Omi wanted this subject to drop. He wanted all of the subjects to drop. He thought again about that foolish moment he chose to stay and help against Schuldig, rather than run with Youji and leave them to fend for themselves. If only he had gone with him.

What were his friends doing now, he wondered. Were they looking for him? Had they escaped? Run into the other half of Schwarz? He hoped they were okay.

He flinched a little from the press of the question, having no solid answer he could offer that wasn't the harsh, humiliating truth. It wasn't made any easier by the way Batman seemed to loom even from the chair in which he sat. He was high compared to Omi's position on the floor, one he had admittedly opted for himself.

Irrationally, he felt as though he must be in trouble for being the taken son, too-- asking about it, at least. He worked his jaw as though seeking the start of his answer, but it was several seconds before he finally voiced it.

"I just thought you might know. To know about it at all..." He must have looked into it. Omi wouldn't have expected Batman to be the least aware if he hadn't mentioned it himself. But since he had-- except Omi realized now, there was hardly a reason for Batman to care about that, was there? He was investigating Weiss, not some disappearance from six years ago.

"Sorry. I can see that was mistaken."

It still wasn't much of an explanation, but it was all Omi could muster.

[decentdad]

"Yes, but why do you care?"

He leaned forward, arms and weight on his knees. Still trying for that eye contact.

"I know a thing or two about it, and suspect others," he said, slowly. "Robin told me about what happened."

A trace of discomfort slipped through in his tone. Batman was a construction of precision, and to know that anyone might be able to look behind the curtain, so to speak... With Dick, it was fine. Dick understood. But others...

"Putting children in danger is not a thing I tolerate." He wondered if that would make the assassin more likely to trust him. "If you know what he knows, then you know. It struck a little close to the heart, for me-- and, to be honest, something about the whole affair wasn't right. Most of the Takatori family died recently, but, aside from the youngest son, the mother died shortly after. It was ruled a suicide, but it could have been staged. I wonder if Reiji Takatori killed his brother in revenge for him kidnapping his son and murdering his wife."

[oneblackcat]

Omi managed to stay silent at the continued press for why he cared about the kidnapping or what Batman might know of it. It was easy to avoid, to ignore, questions and statements about him.

Statements about people he loved, however, would get him every time.

He noticed the shift in tone and though he still kept his head turned, he did listen more attentively. For Robin to have told Batman what happened, that could only mean Batman knew that Omi was aware of his real identity. And the sheer finality of that statement-- if you know, then you know-- sounded like Omi must value their secret identities more than they did. That couldn't be true...

But then the conversation shifted again, to his mother. To his father. To Shuuichi. Omi's eyes grew wide with shock at the theory that was so wildly, insultingly wrong, and before he knew what he was doing, he'd snapped his head up to eye contact.

"He didn't do either of those--!" Shit.

The sentence broke off. Omi grit his teeth, and turned his head again.

"He wasn't the kidnapper..."

[decentdad]

"And you know this," he said, a touch of irony, "and you react so strongly to it, because it has nothing to do with you."

He looked straight into the boy's eyes. Utterly disbelieving. Grim, unsatisfying satisfaction.

It was true. An incorrect theory would have produced indignation; a correct one, shock. Either could have provoked an outburst, and not everyone can control them.

"Given your age, you could only know that if you were, in fact, Mamoru Takatori. And you're also an assassin who took orders from the police chief, your uncle, up until his death."

He's got the pieces, still trying to fit together the puzzle.

[oneblackcat]

Omi had had enough of talking with Batman. Nothing good was going to come of it for him or for Weiss, and it was taxing besides on a number of levels. The less he said, the better-- period.

That went double for an answer that could implicate, as was the case for Batman's proclamation of his identity. Any acknowledgement, even one that only affirmed the first half of what he said, could be extended as acknowledgement of both. Any denial could be used to frame him as an unreliable witness, and that would kill whatever worth his word had at this point. Non-response was the only safe choice.

He sloughed away from the wall to lie on the floor, knees half-curled in front of him and defeat across his face.

"I invoke my right to remain silent for the rest of the journey. I'm tired..."

And depressed, and ashamed, and lonely.

[decentdad]

"Nothing's stopping you," he said blandly, mostly to give himself a moment to plot. Was this enough for now? He wasn't without mercy, and if he had been kidnapped, and worse, still, for all this time...

[oneblackcat]

Omi squirmed on the floor to resituate himself to be facing the wall. Physical barriers were impossible, so a psychological one would have to do.

He, too, wanted to plot. His options were incredibly limited, and with things as they stood... barring an astronomically unlikely rescue, he would be facing questions again all too soon. Batman had implied that while a technical right to silence existed, that didn't mean all he had to do was keep his mouth shut for a few days. They were determined to get more information from him. That information was going to cause trouble. And the last few minutes had shown that even if he was careful, he was still likely to help them learn things they shouldn't learn.

Omi did not want to be the reason Kritiker was dissolved. He did not want to be the reason Ken, Youji and Aya went to jail. His thoughts traveled, once more, to the small drugged dart tucked against the roof of his mouth. Most of the time, it was a close-range defense for emergencies, when his hands were restricted. In an unconventional sort of way, he supposed that was the case here as well.

Most likely, it wasn't enough for any permanent solution, but if he was lucky, maybe, given his small size and younger age. It was a chance he would have to take. There might not be another opportunity where he was more likely to go unnoticed. He was lying down with his back to the others. If it was enough... it would probably need a few minutes. It would be better if the initial drop didn't draw attention. This was a good time.

He freed the needle with his tongue and considered where best to direct it. Leaving the mouth was out of the question. That would be noticed. Cheek... Lip... Tongue... The tongue probably had the most direct blood flow. He braced the dart against a lower molar, took one slow, final breath for preparation, and shoved the underside of his tongue against the tip.

He barely made a sound from the pain. Within seconds, consciousness was gone.

[decentdad]

He'd chosen his moment. Batman was willing to let him lie, at this point. Progress isn't always the work of a day, and he stood, left him, and went to get Robin to fill in what he could.

Robin's buttons, unfortunately, were just easier to press. Bruce knew where most of them were.

Even so, it was slow going. Dick clearly wasn't comfortable rifling through someone else's memories ("How does M'gann do it?"), although Bruce suspected that was mostly to invoke karma.

"Why don't you check on him," Batman suggested, to give him a break. "It's been a while."

"All right," Robin, seeing his out and taking it.

The prisoner was slumped against the wall, about as Batman described. But that'd been a while, and no assassin should sleep that deeply, especially not one that's been captured.

He knelt, felt his wrist for a pulse, and it was faint, but present.