He's been lurking the streets of Gotham at night for a few weeks now - tracking down a member of the legendary Bat-family wasn't easy. Dragon's hands are in his jacket's pockets for warmth, and his breath is an almost invisible fog as he moves silently through an alleyway.
Then the thug runs by - and there's only one thing that terrifies a crook like that in Gotham.
He kept running, teetering on the edge of blind panic now, so Cassandra stuck to the rooftops, the better to let him come back to himself, start thinking rationally again. After all, if the fear eats too much of his brain, then she'll lose him, he'll wander into a pool hall as easily as his home base, or a homeless shelter, he could even turn himself into the police, seeking shelter from the big bad Batgirl. It had happened before, according to some of the stories Tim and Barbara had told her
( ... )
She coiled and sprang when she heard the creak of the door opening, colliding with his body, knocking him through the open door, the pair of them sprawling on the dirty floor. He wriggled beneath her like a worm on a fisherman's hook. She drove a sword-hand strike into his back, just above his kidney, her nose wrinkling as the thug's bladder let go. That drove most of the fight out of him, and a quick elbow to the back of the head did the rest.
She dragged him back up the stairs by the ankle, calling in the collar. Plastic zip ties from her belt restrained his ankles and wrists. This one had robbed three newsstands, and shot two of the three newsagents, before escaping on foot both times. Oracle had the serial numbers of several of the missing bills. If he had the money on him, or in his rathole apartment, he'd be going away to Blackgate.
A good bust, hopefully. Something to make the rest of her adoptive family proud.
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Then the thug runs by - and there's only one thing that terrifies a crook like that in Gotham.
"Bingo."
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She'd never listen to him if he screwed up a collar for her - besides, this might be a valuable chance to observe her technique.
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She dragged him back up the stairs by the ankle, calling in the collar. Plastic zip ties from her belt restrained his ankles and wrists. This one had robbed three newsstands, and shot two of the three newsagents, before escaping on foot both times. Oracle had the serial numbers of several of the missing bills. If he had the money on him, or in his rathole apartment, he'd be going away to Blackgate.
A good bust, hopefully. Something to make the rest of her adoptive family proud.
Reply
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