Naila al-Kimyai is the Demon's (head) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-08-22 01:19:00
Ra's bags himself a Detective Who: Ra's and Bruce Wayne What: A trap is sprung. Where: An abandoned building in the Narrows. When: Nowish, after this Warnings/Rating: A little drugging.
Bruce knew it was a trap.
That was the point, after all. Ra's was luring him out with the promise of Damian's body to catch him off guard but oh, he would be ready. He would be prepared. Maybe a small, small part of him was going to get his son's body back (to make up for his failure, look son, I got you back) but a larger part knew this might be his only chance to stop whatever Ra's was preparing before it began. Otherwise, they would have to wait, to react, struggling to keep up while Ra's gloated as he always did.
He had to stop it. He had to try.
The others were in Marvel, and maybe he should tell them but it would be time wasted, time he couldn't afford to waste. And if he didn't come alone, Ra's would know. He'd know and he'd be gone, vanished, the chance to catch him slipping through their fingers like water. He had to act and he had to act now; the only precaution he did take was to leave a note for Selina. Oh, he didn't say where he was going, but it was something. And if it went wrong... he could only hope they'd be smart enough not to come looking.
But he didn't think about what ifs. He focused on the task at hand, at being ready for whatever Ra's might throw at him. And if he could get Damian's body back in the process of taking the madman down once and for all, well, it would be a bonus. The address led him to--what else--a condemned building, empty upon first glance but there were sounds, movement, once he got inside. Squatters, which made things trickier; in the dark it would be harder to tell who was harmless and who was not. Ra's was skilled, of that there was no doubt, as were his men.
Quiet. He came in from above and made his way down, level by level. There was no need to call out; he was certain Ra's would find him. Of course it was a trap.
It existed between the lines of his words, the bait was something that Ra's knew the Detective could not resist. Failure, even perceived failure, was something that had to be rectified. In this case, returning Damian's body, a theft that had been entirely necessary. Having one plan was never enough and though Damian had returned, having a back up was a requirement should his grandson perform another stupid stunt.
He knew, of course, when the Detective entered the building. The souls upstairs - barely people, etching out a facsimile of a life - would do anything for the promise of a clean bed and hot food and were all too happy to let him know when someone out of the ordinary came through the door. Regardless of how much a part of the city Batman was, he stood out, as did Bruce Wayne. Dress him down, dress him up, old money leaked from his pores, showed in the cut and style of his hair.
Ra's stayed back, masked and shrouded in black, blending with the other members of the League. On a table rested something, not Damian's body - that was back at his lab - wrapped in white burial cloth. An illusion for the Detective.
And come he did. Once his feet were off the steps and onto the floor. they fanned out. The rules were the same as they had been with Eddie. Take. Do not kill. What would be the point of killing the Detective now, before he got to watch what happened to Gotham? That wouldn't do.
"Detective." His voice was clear behind the mask, only his eyes visible as he stepped out from the shadow he had made his home. The rest happened fast, one injection on either side of his neck. Something to keep him docile for their trip. Eddie got the suite, but Bruce? Bruce would have to be kept underground, bound as the Jackal did not have to be. A crook of his fingers and several more of his ninja's came forth to carry the heavy body of the Detective into the sewers of Gotham.