Chapter 375: Daredevil Had One Too
"I can see this is putting you in a difficult spot." Sable studied that permanently unreadable jaw line. "I'll get my people together. We leave now."
"And remember -- you owe me one."
She hadn't finished the sentence. The room, already dark, seemed to drop another shade, and Batman was gone -- him and the kid both -- between one blink and the next. The window was still swaying.
"Please." Sable glanced at it and muttered under her breath. "That shy?"
She'd been messing with him, nothing more. Batman's total absence of expression had annoyed her, and she'd wanted to crack it. Well -- if the result was Batman bolting like he'd been caught doing something embarrassing, then her mood had improved considerably. She grabbed the glass of water off the nightstand, drank two mouthfuls, and picked up her radio.
"People. We've got a job."
The dormitory section of the factory erupted. A dozen rough-edged men grabbed their gear and scrambled for the door like the building was on fire.
They'd been government mercenaries before. After that, private security under the Sable Group name. In America, both careers sat at roughly the same point on the danger scale -- you kept your head attached by staying alert. But since Silver Sable International had pivoted to rescue operations, the risk had come down sharply while the money had stayed the same. These were men who did not do well with boredom. One job a day would have suited them perfectly.
Sable walked out into the factory yard, shook her head at the chaos, and started kicking the ones who were still half-drunk to the side. She handpicked seven or eight of her best.
Batman had come to her personally. She'd teased him -- that was her right -- but the job itself she would handle properly.
"Tony. Has anyone in black come to see you recently? Someone asking about something that happened two years ago?"
Batman put the question through the encrypted line as he moved, swinging toward Hell's Kitchen.
"Oh, absolutely. Absolutely." Tony Stark's voice on the other end had the particular quality of a man who'd had a few drinks.
"Do you know who it was?"
"I do." Tony said.
Batman stopped mid-swing, landed on a rooftop, and kept his voice level.
"Tell me."
"I not only know who it was -- I know he wears a costume with pointy ears on top, and when he talks, his voice is so deep it could fill the Pacific Ocean." A low laugh from the other end of the line.
"...Go to hell, Tony."
"Huh, I never knew you had it in you to say that--"
Batman ended the call before Tony could finish, and continued toward Hell's Kitchen with Venom Robin.
"What are you suspicious of, old bat?" Venom Robin asked.
"I want to know what happened two years ago," Batman said. Then he went quiet.
The silence held all the way down until they dropped from the rooftops and stood before a concealed basement door in Hell's Kitchen.
Batman raised his hand and knocked.
Venom Robin stared at the knocking motion like he was watching something deeply unusual.
The basement had looked and sounded completely dead from outside. The knock changed that -- immediately, from within came the faint, careful sound of movement.
The metal door cracked open, fast but barely an inch. A hand came through the gap, holding a pistol leveled directly at Batman's head.
Batman didn't move. Even with the barrel on him, his expression didn't shift.
Venom Robin let out a low sound and moved. Both hands, lightning fast -- one flattening into a suction shape against the metal door, the other extending into a tendril that threaded itself precisely into the trigger guard, locking it. The hand on the other side of the door couldn't have pulled that trigger no matter what.
SLAM.
Venom Robin yanked the door shut. He used barely any force. Even so, the person behind it grunted in pain, and the pistol slipped free and dropped. Venom Robin caught it with the tip of his foot, flicked it upward, and handed it to Batman.
Batman nodded at him, ran his fingers along the frame, and the gun came apart into its components on the floor.
Venom Robin pushed the door open again, gently this time, and they walked in together.
It wasn't dark inside. It was bright.
Three people stood watching them as they entered, every face guarded.
"Batman?"
One of the three was Daredevil. He said it as a question, then turned his face toward Venom Robin with the same puzzled expression.
"Who's he?" Daredevil asked, the wariness in his voice unchanged.
The night before last, when Daredevil had come to Batman for help, Batman had brought Venom Robin along -- but Robin hadn't shown himself. Just now, Daredevil had picked up Batman's footsteps through the metal door, but Venom Robin's footsteps had given him nothing to read. He couldn't place the short figure at all.
Which was why Luke Cage had been the one to open the door with a gun.
"My partner. Robin," Batman said.
He shifted his attention from Daredevil to the other two.
One was a tall Black man in a grey hoodie, currently pressing one hand against his wrist and scowling.
The other was a white woman, about five-seven, in a denim jacket and jeans.
"Luke Cage. Jessica Jones," Batman said, looking at each of them in turn.
Luke Cage flexed his wrist and gave Batman a nod. The grip had hurt -- but only hurt. His physical resilience was well beyond normal, even if it wasn't in the same category as Venom Robin's. A squeezed wrist didn't put him down.
"You're Batman." It wasn't really a question. "Daredevil told us -- you and Iron Man got us out from under Kingpin."
Jessica Jones nodded as well.
Batman didn't answer. He brought up the Arkham suit's scanner and looked them both over.
"Were you injured during your time with Kingpin?"
Luke Cage and Jessica Jones glanced at each other.
"Not counting what happened on the rooftop that night -- no."
Batman gave a small nod and said nothing. The scanner had already shown him organ damage in both of them. He hadn't known whether they healed the way he did, which was why he'd asked. If they hadn't been hurt at Kingpin's, the damage predated their captivity -- still unresolved.
"You both gained your abilities during the dinosaur invasion. Contamination from the radioactive chemical agent?"
Luke Cage shook out his wrist -- it had fully recovered, no trace of discomfort.
"That's right."
"I came to meet you, and to ask you something," Batman said. "From what I know, one of you grew up on the streets, and the other didn't finish higher education after high school. Your lives, from childhood onward, have been centered in Brooklyn, Queens, and Hell's Kitchen."
Jessica Jones pressed her fingers together. Something about the direction of this conversation put her on edge.
Batman glanced at her and continued.
"But between July and October of 2004 -- where were you? I can't find any trace of your movements during those three months in any record I've looked at."
"Batman, these are my friends." Daredevil turned slightly toward Batman and shook his head, his grip tightening on his billy club.
Batman raised a hand toward him, palm down. Easy.
"It's all right, Daredevil. I'm investigating something." He paused. "On a separate note -- has anyone in black come to find you recently? Asking about something from two years ago?"
Daredevil's composure shifted almost imperceptibly. He'd been listening to Batman question Luke Cage without making the connection. But the moment it was directed at him, memory landed:
"Yes. About two weeks ago. Someone came to me."
He straightened.
"Black clothes. Face covered. Large build. Circular black shield."
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