"So, they call you Lunchmeat Deever, huh?"

He gives me no response. But that's part of the game when his mouth is taped shut.

"Career murderer, you made a life for yourself by serving as an enforcer for guys like Freddie Minh and Angel Marin, right?"

Again, no response. I take a bite from the ham sandwich in my hand.

"That's gotta be it, because as far as lunchmeat goes, your daytime job as a butcher sucks," I tell him. I throw the sandwich in his face. He blinks and it falls down to the ground below. "So, you enjoying the view, Deever?"

He tries to scream out, but it's muffled by the tape. Right now, I've got him suspended fifteen stories above Blüdhaven, and the only thing preventing him from becoming street pizza is the rope I have tied around his ankles.

"Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?"

I grip the tape and slowly pull it off his mouth. The look on his face tells me it's definitely not a pleasant experience.

Good.

"There, now we can talk," I tell him.

"I ain't tellin' you shit!" he exclaims.

"Temper, Lunchmeat," I say, wagging my finger in front of him. "It can't be good for your health."

I produce a nightarang and position it by the rope. I cut a few fibers, and Deever can feel it strain, but it doesn't snap.

"See what I mean?"

"Hey, are you crazy?!" exclaims Deever.

"A person would have to be to spend a Friday night up here with you," I say. "C'mon Deever, tell me what I want to know."

"I don't know nothin', I swear!"

"A minute ago you refused to tell me anything, but now you don't know anything?"

I use the nightarang to cut a few more fibers.

"OH CHRIST, JESUS CHRIST DON'T DO THIS!"

"Then start talking," I tell him. "Word on the street is Blüdhaven's expecting some imports. I want to know when and where the shipments are coming in, what's in them, and who's footing the bill."

"Please, I swear, I don't know nothin' about no drugs."

"I don't remember saying anything about drugs," I tell him. I cut a few more fibers and the rope strains even more.

"OH JESUS STOP, I'LL TELL YOU!!"

"Let's hear it."

"Blüdhaven Harbor..." he says. "Monday night. One A.M."

"What is it?" I ask. "Coke? Heroin?"

"I dunno."

"You can do better than that, Lunchmeat."

"I'm serious!" he exclaims.

"Who's behind it, Freddie Minh?" I ask.

"Maybe, I don't know none a'that!" he replies. "I ain't dealt with Minh in years!"

"That's right, you're working for Blockbuster now, aren't you?"

"What if I am?"

"Don't try to lie to me, Deever—I've seen you speaking with Soames, and we all know he's Desmond's right-hand man."

"Alright fine, so I work for Blockbuster!" exclaims Deever. "Is that what you wan' me to say?"

"It'll have to do," I say. "But if I find out that you're lying to me, Deever..."

"I'm not, honest!"

"In that case, have a good night."

I turn and start to walk away from him, leaving him hanging there, under the strain of the rope.

"Hey, ain'tcha gonna let me down?!"

"Oh right, I'm sorry..."

I spin on my heel and hurl the nightarang. It slices right through the rope and Deever begins to fall. My hand wraps around the rope before he's ever in any real danger, and I drop him on the fire escape.

"Just remember, Deever—I know where to find you."

Nightwing
A Knight in Blüdhaven...

Nightwing

"The Docks"
  Nightwing#1 - September, Year Two by Dino Pollard

I don’t bother with the jumpline. At least, not tonight.

Sure, some people enjoy the thrill of swinging via some sort of grappling hook. But me, I was trained as an acrobat pretty much from birth. I prefer letting my gymnastic ability take the reins over a cable.

When you’re jumping rooftop to rooftop, with nothing between you and the city below, it’s definitely an experience to be had. No, I won’t lie – it’s a total rush, and I enjoy every minute of it.

As my feet leave the building, I twist in midair, moving into freefall. Gravity pulls my body closer and closer to the street below. I extend my arms, and my fingers wrap around a streetlight. I keep my grip on it, the momentum swinging my body around the light once, then twice. Right before I complete the third rotation, when my feet are pointing towards the sky, I release and fly forward.

I don’t think it’s possible for someone like Superman to feel a rush like this.

I bring my knees in close to my chest, and as my feet make contact with the apartment tenement building, I push off once more. The momentum sends me back across the street. Not enough for me to cross it completely, though. My arm shoots out, and a small grappling hook rockets from the gauntlet I wear around my forearm.

The cable changes my direction, and I swing down over the street. I release it when I’m high enough in the air and land soundlessly on a rooftop. I move across the roof quickly and glance over the edge.

Blüdhaven Harbor.

When this city was first founded, its primary business was whaling. Being right on the coast made it ideal for that sort of business. Now, it’s become… well, a haven for crime. Drugs, weapons, murder, rape. This place has it all. From the stories I’ve heard, this is probably what Gotham was like before men like Batman and Jim Gordon cleaned it up.

Gotham. Batman.

At the moment, those two words send chills through my spine… and my healing ribcage. Bruce Wayne was like a father to me. Or is, depending on how you look at it. After my parents died, he took me in, trained me to be his partner. With his help, I found Tony Zucco, the man who killed my parents. I stayed on and became the first Robin.

Then we had a falling out. He fired me, and I took on the identity of Nightwing. Time passed, and we eventually reunited. But history, it seems, has a way of repeating itself.

I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand Bruce. He’s pushing all of us away—Babs, Tim, me. Isolating himself, cutting himself off. I know why he does it, to make him a more effective weapon. But just because I know doesn’t mean I’m willing to accept it.

From a practical standpoint, what he did makes sense. As Oracle, Barbara knew everything about Bruce and his whole operation. That knowledge can be deadly if the wrong person were to get their hands on it. That’s why Bruce used the Scarecrow’s fear toxins to try and make Babs forget what she knew.

He lied to me. He told me it was the Scarecrow’s doing when in reality, it was him all along. When I found out, he pushed me away. Pushed all of us away. All except for her.

Cassandra Cain, his new protégé. A teenage girl who was trained to be an assassin. And now, she’s working for the Batman. But somehow, I don’t see her becoming the next Robin.

With recent events in Gotham, not to mention the Titans, I’ve found myself drawn away from Blüdhaven more than I should be. Things in the ‘haven have been pretty quiet lately. In fact, just a little bit too quiet, and that scares me. I’d like to think my presence here was having that big of an effect, and that is the long-term goal. But this soon? I doubt it.

It’s probably more likely that Blockbuster, Blüdhaven’s resident crime kingpin, has been busy as well. Word has it he had some involvement with Black Adam fairly recently, so that would explain it.

I pull myself out of my thoughts as I notice activity starting up. A ship is docking. No harbor patrol, and I don’t think the crewmembers are of the law-abiding nature. It looks like Deever's tip paid off. I should probably send him a "thank you" card when this is all over.

Crates are being unloaded from the ship. Part of me wants to jump in and bust this up right away, let out some aggression on these scumbags. But I hold myself in check, bide my time.


A sharp turn of the flint wheel set off a spark and lit the small wick inside the lighter. Inspector Dudley Soames held the flame over the end of a cigarette. There was no brand name of any kind on the paper—Soames preferred to roll his own.

He snapped the lid of the lighter shut on the case and slipped it into the pocket of his trench coat. His index and middle fingers wrapped around the cigarette and removed it from his mouth after taking a drag. He allowed the smoke to linger for a few moments, letting it fill his lungs, before he exhaled.

He stood at the edge of the pier, overlooking the waters of Blüdhaven Harbor. He could see crates bobbing in the wake, crates he imagined were now empty. Most likely those crates went in, open-end first, and their content was now at the bottom of the harbor. Blüdhaven's waters were already polluted enough to the point where no drugs would be able to cause any damage.

At least not the ones in this shipment.

The boy was catching on, Soames thought to himself. It would be too difficult to mount any sort of salvage crew. Too many questions and too many people to pay off in order to do it quickly and quietly. Soames knew this, and he suspected Nightwing did as well. With his course of action, there was no worry of the drugs mysteriously vanishing or being misplaced from the evidence room.

"Inspector Soames!"

Soames turned to see a uniformed man approach him. He took a drag on his cigarette, not even granting the officer the honor of eye contact.

"What is it?" he asked.

"One of them is conscious," replied the officer.

"Let's not dawdle then, old son," said Soames. "Lead the way."

The officer nodded and stepped off from the pier. Soames followed, and his eyes glanced down at the men who were unconscious and tied up with ropes. Soames recognized each of them, and he knew they all had outstanding warrants. However, none of them were on Roland Desmond's payroll, which left Soames wondering if this was Freddie Minh's operation.

The officer motioned to a fairly young man with an unshaven face. His head, however, had recently been shaved bald. Soames looked down at him and removed the cigarette from his mouth. He flicked the cigarette from his fingers and it bounced off the man's head, sending sparks flying, before landing on the pavement. Soames stomped on it with the heel of his polished, black wingtip shoe.

"Leave us be," he said to the officer.

"You sure, Inspector?"

"Positive," replied Soames. "Run along now, I'm sure you'll find some way to amuse yourself, lad."

The officer said nothing else, and turned and left Soames and the man alone. Once the officer was out of earshot, Soames knelt down before the man. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver cigarette case with the initials "D.S." engraved on it. He removed a cigarette from it and placed it in his mouth, and held it out to the man. He shook his head.

"No thanks, I quit," he said.

"Smart man," said Soames. He replaced the cigarette case in his pocket and produced the lighter. It produced a click when he turned the lid on its hinge. "Now then, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah," said the man.

He turned the flint wheel and lit the cigarette when the flame appeared in the lighter's chimney.

"You're Dudley Soames."

"Actually..." Soames began as he lit the cigarette. With a jerk of his wrist, the lid closed over the flame, extinguishing it. "That's Inspector Soames to you, lad."

"Right... sorry, Inspector Soames."

"If you know who I am, then I assume you also know who I represent, correct?" asked Soames.

"Yeah, you work for Bl—"

Soames' hand shot out and smacked the man on the cheek. He closed his fist and extended his forefinger in a chiding manner.

"No names, mate. Bloke like you should know that in Blüdhaven, someone's always listening."

"Right... sorry..."

"I see you and your friends took quite a beating. What were you transporting?"

"I dunno what you're talking about."

"You know, I haven't heard anything about any shipments coming in tonight..." said Soames. "And if I haven't heard about it, you know my associate hasn't. And if he finds out that you haven't gone through the proper channels..."

"What?"

Soames smiled. He had this little bottom-feeder right where he wanted him.

"Well... let's just say it wouldn't be pretty," he said. He took a drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke in the man's face. He coughed slightly and Soames leaned in close to his face. "So come on, little birdy. It's time for you to sing."

"Babs, you online?"

"You have something for me, Boy Wonder?"

That was the voice of Barbara Gordon coming through my laptop. Back in the day, she was running across rooftops in tights, just like me. Back when she was Batgirl. Then the Joker shot her, paralyzing her from the waist down. Babs didn't give in to despair, though. Instead, she fought back. She continues fighting the good fight to this day as Oracle, serving as a source of information to various superheroes. Only a few know who she really is, though.

Lucky me, I'm one of them.

"Found something interesting down at the docks," I tell her. I open the package and remove the small patch from it. "Tell me... wasn't Bane's little venom patch export service shut down?"

AUTHOR'S NOTES


Well... first issue of NIGHTWING. I was officially given this gig awhile back, and Steve Crosby told me his plans for Nightwing and Oracle, which would come to fruition in BATMAN #20. Since I felt his plans would tie in perfectly with what I had in mind for NIGHTWING, and since it gave me a great jumping-on point, I chose to wait until he finished BATMAN #20.

Obviously he has, which is why you are now reading this. As you can see, this series starts off in September of Year Two. But as far as how it picks up off of normal DC continuity... well, that gets a little complicated.

See, when I propped this title, I wanted to set it after the events of DC's NIGHTWING #8. The main reason for this decision is Dudley Soames. I loved Soames' character in those first issues, how he was this really weasely guy who played both sides of the fence. I felt his transformation into Torque really killed a lot of potential for the character and just turned him into another run-of-the-mill psychopath.

But, when I spoke with Jae Lizhini, who was writing THE TITANS at that time, I discovered that he and Steve had agreed that they were going to go the route of making Dick a cop in Blüdhaven. Obviously, this happened in the comics way after Soames became Torque, so I spoke with Curt about it, and I decided what would be best would be to keep the continuity of the first eight issues of DC's NIGHTWING series, and that's it (so nothing after NIGHTWING #8 is in continuity here). But, we're going to assume that during the past two years of JLU's continuity, Dick has gone through the police academy and he's now an officer. You'll see more of Dick's career as a cop coming into play in future issues, and you'll also see some familiar faces from the NIGHTWING series, such as Amygdala, John Law, Bridget Clancy, Tad Ryerstad, Chief Redhorn, and Dick's partner, Amy Rohrbach.

Aside from the big two icons of Superman and Batman, I think it's safe to say that Nightwing is my favorite DC character. I've always found him to be particularly interesting, how he's had a life that's very similar to the Batman's, but he doesn't let the quest for justice encompass his life as much as the Batman has. Dick has adjusted to the events of his life fairly well.

Just to clear things up for people, here are some things you won't be seeing as long as I'm writing NIGHTWING. First off, you won't see Dick and Babs getting together. Sorry to the fans who love their romance, but I've always felt the strongest part of their relationship was their friendship, and I feel introducing the romance into that killed what made their relationship special. Second, you won't see Blüdhaven clean up. Third, you won't see Dick having any nervous breakdowns. What you will see are stories about corruption, crime, the gray areas of justice, and a man against an entire city—because that's what made NIGHTWING so great when it first hit the stands. As you can see from this issue, I'm borrowing some things from Steve's BATMAN run. I mean, let's face it—how can you not be inspired by the kickass work he's done so far on that book?

Story © 2005 Dino Pollard and may not be reproduced without permission.