Nightwing

[Zev]

Note: This takes place inbetween The Flash and The Flash 2: Rogue's Gallery.


"Heroes do that which is needed."
- 1967 Pillsbury Baron Von Lemon Drink Mix Advertising Premium Booklet

OPEN ON:

EXT. SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP – GOTHAM CITY – NIGHT

The BATMAN LOGO fills the frame with a portentious soundtrack boom. PULL OUT as the gothic Batman theme continues, revealing the logo to be stenciled onto the chestplate of the Batman suit.

BATMAN stands on the edge of the gargoyled building, a lone silhouette keeping vigil over the city.

Then another figure steps up into frame, taking his place behind Batman. Their capes billow in the city wind. ROBIN, age fifteen. The light-hearted elf to Batman's dour giant.

ROBIN: You know what's the best thing in the whole wide world?

Batman gives him a sideways glance.

BATMAN: Hmm?

Robin spreads his arms wide, encompassing the whole of the urban landscape.

ROBIN: This!

He turns back to Batman.

ROBIN: Hey, Batman, what're we gonna do once we finally get rid of all the criminals and everything? Move to another city?

BATMAN: I don't think that's something you have to worry about, Robin.

ROBIN: Okay, so then we'll just stay in Gotham and keep doing this, right? Forever and ever?

BATMAN: We'll do this as long as it's effective. And feasible.

ROBIN: Right. Like I said. Forever.

INT. AIRPLANE – EVENING

Close-up of a window, rain slapping against it. Pull out again to find DICK GRAYSON, now in his early twenties, trying to get some sleep. He's handsome, lithe, and athletic. A mite uptight despite his happy-go-lucky nature. He tries to get comfortable despite the ample turbulence.

Next to him, a mid-twenties MAN (brown hair, blue eyes, intelligent), finishes his book. Another rattle makes their stomachs lurch.

MAN: Hell of a flight, huh?

GRAYSON: Yeah.

MAN: This is even worse than my last one. There was this drunk guy... but I'm probably boring you.

GRAYSON: Yeah, a little.

THUNDER rumbles outside.

MAN: So, whadda do for a living when you're not racking up frequeny flier miles?

GRAYSON: I'm a cop.

MAN: You're making me feel inadequate. I'm a photographer. On a book tour.

GRAYSON: Now you're making me feel inadequate. I'm just transferring to a new station.

MAN: New station huh? To or away?

GRAYSON: What?

MAN: Are you running to something or away from something?

GRAYSON: Little bit of both, actually.

Out the window, we see LIGHTNING strike the engine! It bursts into flames, exploding! The plane loses altitude rapidly, oxygen masks dropping from the overhead compartment. THE ENGINES SPOOL TO A STALL. METAL TWISTS under extreme PRESSURE. The cabin dips, angles, sharply to the right.

Passengers SCREAM! Unrestrained personal belongings fly across the aircraft INTO CAMERA, which BUFFETS and SHAKES...

A prerecorded message BLARES over the P.A., with eerie calm...

MESSAGE: (V.O.) Fasten seat belts...put on oxygon masks...

GRAYSON: Should've splerged and went first class...

Hee reaches for the oxygon mask and places it over his face. The ENGINES resuscutate. SCREAMING. WHINING. Grayson checks out his window. The plane is on its side, losing altitude. A slow, sick spin. Grayson breathes deep into his oxygon cup.

The JET ENGINES GRIND AND WHIR, as if the craft were in the midst of a last ditch effort to regain stability; the sounds DEAFENING over the PASSENGERS' cruelly hopeless SCREAMS.

Grayson doesn't scream as the ENGINES DIE. The cabin begins to tilt downwards... then straight down. Debris tumbles toward the flight deck as if falling from a cliff.

OUTSIDE... the sick familiar SOUND of an aircraft going down.

Then the sound slows. Curls. Grayson looks out the window. SUPERMAN has taken the destroyed turbine's position. He lifts the plane up.

EXT. BLUDHAVEN – EVENING

Superman guides the plane into BLUDHAVEN. A short car ride down the coast from Gotham. But much, much worse. If it's too coarse or vile or awful for Gotham, it ends up here. Petrochemical plants surrounded by row houses, all in the shadow of the East Coat's worst highway tangle. Welcome to Bludhaven. An urban sprawl riven by fires, floods, and earthquakes. Smog hangs in the air like an army of ever-present ghosts. We pass over a roof where someone has painted a smart-ass welcome mat for the benefit of anyone flying overhead - "GO BACK".

INT. AIRPORT LOBBY – EVENING

The lobby is filled with rattled passengers giving interviews to a hungry PRESS. Grayson stands in the airport lobby, talking at a phone kiosk. Desperate to connect.

GRAYSON: Hey Babs. It's me. Are you there? Pick up if you're there. I just wanted to tell you... I got to Bludhaven fine. The flight over was a little... interesting.

Mild-mannered CLARK KENT walks towards Grayson. Grayson waves him over, then back to the phone...

GRAYSON: Gottagobye.

He hangs up.

GRAYSON: Mr. Kent.

CLARK: You're making me feel old. Please, it's Clark to my friends.

GRAYSON: Clark then...

They walk away from the commotion of the lobby.

GRAYSON: So, what brings you to Bludhaven?

CLARK: I happened to be in the neighborhood.

GRAYSON: Bruce ask you to keep an eye on me?

CLARK: Would you be angrier if I said yes or no?

GRAYSON: That's not an answer.

CLARK: Bright lad.

GRAYSON: You know, you'd probably wouldn't feel old so often if you didn't call people "lad."

CLARK: Are you sure you want to come here? I've been all over the world, seen a lot of bad places. And believe you me, Bludhaven is one of the worst.

GRAYSON: I grew up in Gotham, Clark.

CLARK: Gotham has good people. Bludhaven doesn't.

GRAYSON: I can't believe that. You just have to look for them.

CLARK: Look, I know you want to prove yourself after Bruce fired you...

GRAYSON: He didn't fire me, I quit. Why, what has he been telling you?

CLARK: Nothing.

Grayson sighs.

GRAYSON: I'm really not sure where to go from here. I mean, only reason I came here was because it was the quickest way out of Gotham...

CLARK: Have you ever thought of pitching it all? Just living the rest of your life as Dick Grayson?

GRAYSON: That seemed like a really cool thing to do. For about five seconds. But I dedicated my life to being Robin and I always thought...

CLARK: That someday you'd be Batman.

GRAYSON: I never told anyone that before.

CLARK: Did I ever tell you the Kryptonian story of the Winged Knight?

GRAYSON: Not that I recall.

CLARK: Rough translation, it sounds a lot better in my native tongue. He was an ancient Kryptonian general who was cast out of his family. So he rededicated himself to fighting for those who everyone else had given up on.

GRAYSON: And did his family ever take him back?

CLARK: No. But one thing I've learned about humans... they make their own stories.

EXT. BLUDHAVEN – MONTAGE – EVENING

Grayson rides in a taxi cab. We see the city from his perspective. A decaying no man's land populated by condemned buildings, boarded up businesses, tent cities, doorways bombed with graffiti throwups and wraith-like homeless. Steam rises from manhole covers, drifting across the litter-lined streets.

EXT. HOTEL – EVENING

Grayson arrives at his destination, heralded by a small neon sign, flickering in and out. Automobile hulks littering the streets like insect husks. The shifting searchlights of police blimps. Grayson steps into the hotel, the sole oasis of light in an otherwise desolated block populated by derelict warehouse buildings. The pool furniture is in the pool. Gang graffiti marks the walls. Bars on all the windows. One of the doors looks like somebody opened it with an ax. The pool lights give the place an eerie, dead glow.

INT. HOTEL – EVENING

Grayson walks in, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Like most of Bludhaven, the building seems to be coming apart at the seams, held together by constant blood and sweat. The few people here keep to themselves, afraid to make contact. Grayson is the only one who walks tall. Flickering neon BUZZES in the window.

GRAYSON: Hello?

A female voice responds with an Irish lilt.

CLANCY: (O.S.) In here!

Grayson pushes open a door with a sign on it reading "Forget the dog, beware of super." Inside, CLANCY has her head buried under the sink, fixing it. She doesn't turn to face him.

GRAYSON: Hey, do you know anything about the apartment?

CLANCY: I should be knowin', I'm the super, y'see?

GRAYSON: Oh. Can I see it?

CLANCY: As y'might notice, I'm a little busy right now. It's on the third floor. Go have a look.

GRAYSON: Do I need a key?

CLANCY: The last visitors didn't.

GRAYSON: Well... thanks.

CLANCY: Anytime.

INT. APARTMENT – EVENING

Grayson pushes open the apartment door. The lock's been shattered. He looks around. Steps on an empty syringe. The glass cracks under his boot. He looks up to see bulletholes in the crumbling plaster. Outside, a neon light shines through the grimy window. Grayson shrugs.

GRAYSON: Not like I'm going to find better.

INT. HOTEL – EVENING

Grayson knocks on the once-more closed super's door.

GRAYSON: Excuse me?

CLANCY: (O.S.) I'm gettin' in the shower. Y'like the place?

GRAYSON: It'll do.

CLANCY: (O.S.) Come back t'morrow with two months' rent an' it's yours.

GRAYSON: I've got the money now, if you like...

CLANCY: Push it through th' mail slot.

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson lies awake in bed. The apartment has been tidied up a bit with an insomniac's care. He looks at the clock on his cell-phone. Two A.M. The phone rings and Grayson almost drops it. He answers.

GRAYSON: Hello?

BARBARA: (filtered) Dick, it's me. Just calling to say I got your message.

GRAYSON: Oh, good, good.

BARBARA: (filtered) Yeah, so... if you need anything.

GRAYSON: No, I'm fine here. It's great.

BARBARA: (filtered) Cool.

Long silence.

BARBARA: (filtered) It's not like you're alone in this. I... I miss "us" too.

GRAYSON: Then why'd we break up?

BARBARA: (filtered) I can't do a long-distance relationship.

GRAYSON: It didn't have to be a long-distance relationship. (beat) Barbara, why didn't you come with me?

BARBARA: (filtered) Goodnight, boy wonder. Oh, sorry. Former boy wonder.

She hangs up. Grayson puts his cell-phone down and goes to sleep.


Next: First Day On The Job

 

[Zev]

INT. HOTEL – MORNING

Grayson comes downstairs, hears movement in the super's room. He knocks on the door.

GRAYSON: Uh... Ms. Clancy? You in?

CLANCY: (O.S.) Ah, my new tenant. Come on in.

INT. SUPER'S ROOM – MORNING

Grayson steps inside. Clancy is washing her hair in the sink, obscuring her face from view.

GRAYSON: Dick Grayson. Everyone calls me Dick.

CLANCY: Just Clancy.

GRAYSON: The cable guy's coming this afternoon and I might not be here.

CLANCY: Yer not goin t'be stealin' yer cable like everyone else in this neighborhood?

GRAYSON: I don't even rip the labels off my mattress, Clancy.

CLANCY: Sure and I'll let the man in, Dick. Nice t' meet an honest man in the Haven. So, where you be off ta?

GRAYSON: Looking for a job, actually.

CLANCY: Good luck.

GRAYSON: Thanks.

EXT. PRECINCT – MORNING

Grayson walks past a parking lot full of bullet-riddled POLICE CARS.

INT. PRECINCT – CENTRAL BOOKING – MORNING

Wounded cops lick their wounds. An assortment of humanity's worst are processed as families, lawyers, and bail bondsmen demand attention. Grayson walks through it all, unfettered. Sees THE FLASH shoving the villainous TURTLE against a booking station.

FLASH: Look, I don't want to be here either, but I caught him here and I am not in the mood to drag him all the way back to Keystone. Now you've got five minutes to take this guy in before I vamoose for Regis & Kathie Lee, ya got that?

INT. PRECINCT – CHIEF'S OFFICE – MORNING

CHIEF REDHORN, a sleek silver fox if ever there was one, looks at Grayson.

REDHORN: Ah, Richard Grayson! Our new transfer from Gotham. I've heard good things about you.

GRAYSON: I'm sure almost all of it's a lie, sir.

Redhorn laughs.

REDHORN: Get your ass down to roll call, they'll give you your gun and your shield. Mind if I ask a personal question?

GRAYSON: Shoot.

REDHORN: Why'd you transfer to Bludhaven? It have anything to do with you dating the Commissioner's daughter?

GRAYSON: Believe it or not, entirely different set of father issues.

INT. PRECINCT – CENTRAL BOOKING – MORNING

Grayson walks out, passing the still-arguing Flash.

FLASH: What are you, dense? Are you ******ed or something? I'm the goddamn Flash!

INT. PRECINCT – SUPPLY – MORNING

Grayson looks at SERGEANT BERKOWITZ through a security screen as various items are pushed to him.

BERKOWITZ: Uniform, one. Regulation cap, one. Belt and holster, one. Badge, one. Service automatic, one.

Grayson takes the badge, a little more hesitantly takes the gun.

BERKOWITZ: Sign for the pistol. The department'll bill you. First uniform is on us, next one is on you. Shoes and socks and undies are on you. Ammo is on you. Regulation loads only. Welcome to the Bludhaven P.D.

INT. PRECINCT – LOCKER ROOM – MORNING

Grayson buttons his uniform in front of the mirror. Checks himself out. Not bad. He twirls his nightclub around. Good heft. Slings it to his belt. He's ready.

INT. PRECINCT – BREAK ROOM – MORNING

Grayson walks in to see AMY ROHRBACH talking on the phone.

AMY: So anyway, girl's completely naked, right?

GRAYSON: 'Scuse me, you Amy Rohrbach?

AMY: Yeah, hold on a minute. (back to phone) Only thing she's wearing is a sandwich board says "free blowjobs."

VOICE ON PHONE: I don't get it, what's the punchline?

AMY: She was your wife, Murphy.

Amy hangs up, turns to Grayson.

AMY: Someone order a male stripper?

GRAYSON: No, no, I'm Dick Grayson.

Blank stare.

GRAYSON: Your new partner?

AMY: ...how old are you?

GRAYSON: Twenty.

AMY: Twenty.

GRAYSON: Twenty.

AMY: ("this is anything but") Fan-tastic.

INT. COP CAR – MORNING

Amy and Grayson get in, Grayson pausing to sweep some empty styrofoam coffee cups off the seat. Amy stabs a screwdriver into the shattered ignition. After forever, the engine catches. They move out. Buildings roll by endless, a couple are burnt-out husks.

GRAYSON: So, do I call you "officer" or "sarge"?

AMY: Amy is fine, rookie.

After a few minutes of random driving (they pass a gated community, paranoia-coddling for the upper-middle-class)...

AMY: So, transferred from Gotham.

GRAYSON: Yeah. Although I didn't see many of the freaks, if that's what you're ask...

AMY: Gotham's nice. But down here we work for a living. Let's get one thing straight. You've been assigned to me for one reason and one reason only. Punishment.

They pass a shanty-camp of homeless people under a freeway overpass. Homes made of cardboard and carpet remnants. The cops are rousing them. One belligerent drunk gets a nightstick party thrown in his honor.

GRAYSON: Punishment? What'd I do?

AMY: Punishment for me, having a wet-behind-the-ears little greenback like you getting under my heels.

Paramedics pick up the remains of a barfight. Two Hispanic brawlers are carried on stretchers into the ambulance.

GRAYSON: What'd you do?

AMY: Well, first I was a woman. Then I declined to give our illustrious Chief Redhorn head... he's kinda venal that way.

Outside, a building burns, out-of-control.

GRAYSON: Why didn't you just call your union rep?

Amy laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard.

AMY: I'm going to have to do some work breaking you in.

GRAYSON: BRAKES!

Amy reacts instinctively and the vehicle lurches to a stop, the bumper inches away from a WOMAN in a morning robe and slippers. She pauses for a moment, looks at them, then keeps going.

GRAYSON: That isn't right.

AMY: Go after her, rookie!

EXT. COP CAR – MORNING

Grayson and Amy step out of the car as a MAN comes running up.

MAN: Marie! Marie, come back here!

AMY: Here comes the groom. I'll handle him.

GRAYSON: Sure?

AMY: Positive.

She steps up to him as Grayson goes to the crying woman.

GRAYSON: You alright, ma'am? That your husband?

She looks at him. A goose egg raising under her eye.

AMY: We're not married. But I guess he's my husband.

GRAYSON: Oh.

Meanwhile, the Man is rationalizing to Amy.

MAN: I lost my job, it's been a lousy week. We had a fight about money.

AMY: No excuse to take a shot at her.

MAN: Like I said, we had a fight.

Grayson rests a hand on his shoulder... and SQUEEZES.

GRAYSON: That's an excuse?

MAN: Come on home, Marie. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.

Grayson spins him around.

GRAYSON: You talk to me!

AMY: Slow down there, cowboy...

WOMAN: Excuse me...?

They turn around.

WOMAN: Bill didn't mean it. Just let us go home, okay?

INT. COP CAR – MORNING

Amy and Grayson keep rolling.

AMY: I hate domestic calls.

GRAYSON: That's it? They go home?

Out the window, a near-riot is prevented from escalating into a full-riot by a death squad of RIOT COPS threshing anything that moves. A bottle smashes open against the driver’s side window, tinting it with vodka. Grayson flinches, Amy doesn’t seem to notice.

AMY: You heard her. She's not gonna press charges.

GRAYSON: So what happens to them?

An overturned car, burning. No one inside. Everyday occurance.

AMY: They live happily ever after. Or she puts roachkiller in his coffee tomorrow. Or he hits her hard enough next time to kill her. But for now, our job is done here.

GRAYSON: It's not right.

AMY: Not our department, Grayson. There's nothing more we can do.

Grayson looks out the window.

AMY: You always hurt the one you love. No law against that yet.

EXT. HOTEL – EVENING

Grayson, changed back into his civvies, walks down the sidewalk, passing a shaggy red-haired man with his arms around two girls, an IRISH REDHEAD and a CHINESE WOMAN.

CLANCY: (O.S.) Sure n' it's Mr. Grayson out fer an' evening stroll.

Grayson turns to face the Redhead.

GRAYSON: Well, Clancy, at last we meet without a door between us.

The girls laugh.

GRAYSON: What did I say this time?

CLANCY: (Chinese woman) The look on yer face is priceless, Mr. Grayson. Meet my friend, Marsha Gurwitz. And I'm building superintendent Bridget Clancy, at your service.

GRAYSON: I'm sorry, I hope I didn't...

CLANCY: Calm down, boyo, it's me who should be apologizin'. A cruel trick that, me lookin' like a Kowloon and talkin' like Londonderry.

The red-haired man takes off his baseball cap.

ROY: You know what else is a cruel trick? A man too caught up in a pretty face to say hello to his best friend. Shameful. You oughta be ashamed.

ROY HARPER is easy-going, irreverent, devil-may-care. Dick's oldest friend and most loyal ally, they consider each other brothers... even if neither one will never admit it. Deep down, Roy's a caring, intelligent guy.

Way deep down.

GRAYSON: Roy Harper, you old son of a gun!

They man-hug, then walk away from the girls (Roy motioning for them to hold on a minute). Clancy and Marsha are amused.

GRAYSON: What're you doing in town?

ROY: Oh, nothing much. Taking in the scenery.

They begin walking to Grayson's apartment.

GRAYSON: (re: leather jacket) What's with the jacket?

ROY: It keeps me warm... and cool.

GRAYSON: Here I thought Ollie didn't like people wearing animal pelts.

ROY: Well, if he wanted to tell me what to do, he shouldn't have let me get addicted to heroin.

That's a touchy subject. Grayson looks away.

GRAYSON: How's the band?

ROY: Great Frog? We're doing alright. It's mostly a weekend thing, we haven't really moved out of the garage yet, so to speak.

They walk towards the hotel. Roy stubs his toe on the curb.

ROY: (swears) Jehaaz meh Saamp hai!

INT. APARTMENT – EVENING

Roy, puffing on a cigar, walks through Grayson's place as Grayson tries to light his own Cuban. Out the window, plumes of smoke are visible from fires raging out-of-control.

ROY: Nice place you got here. When do you install the minibar?

GRAYSON: Right after the shag carpeting comes in. The disco ball's on lay-away.

ROY: Why must you tear down instead of building up? I'm just giving their interior decorating tips away for free and what do I get?

GRAYSON: A sneaking suspicion that there's an ulterior motive to this visit?

ROY: That too.

He stands up, opens his briefcase.

ROY: Remember, back when we were kids, we used to talk about what our costumes would look like once we stopped being sidekicks?

He pulls out a MATTE-BLACK BODYSUIT.

ROY: Ta-da.

GRAYSON: What... is it?

ROY: The very latest in government tech. Built-in emergency glider wing, de-cel line pouches, one-punch taser charge, and check this out.

He holds up a gauntlet-like rotary autoloader. Puts his hand through it and tenses his forearm. A black device about the size of a toenail clipper shoots out into his hand. He squeezes it. Two WINGS shoot out of the side. A BIRDARANG.

ROY: Just like your old Batarangs, only without the copyright infringement. Loads all kinds, armor-piercing, sonic, explosive, and a variety of other tasty flavors. Your tax dollars at work. This baby's an incendiary. Just in case you run into something vulnerable to being burned. Which I guess would be everything.

He throws it. It BURSTS INTO FLAMES and circles back to him, the flames cutting off just before he catches it.

ROY: Disco inferno.

GRAYSON: Costume's a little black, don't you think?

ROY: Feel free to modify it, this is just the prototype. Ten years from now, when Congress gets off its ass and approves the budget, all the cool soldiers will be wearing one.

GRAYSON: Roy, this is too much. Really. I didn't get you anything.

ROY: That's alright, it's a gift. Courtesy of Uncle Sam.

GRAYSON: (realizing) You came here to recruit me.

ROY: Days of superheroes running around endangering the public without government interference are coming to an end. All it'll take is one big push, one infamous incident that shows we can't be trusted... and there's gonna be a crackdown. And people who've proven that they can cooperate, people like you and me... they're gonna be the ones who come out smelling like roses.

GRAYSON: Jesus, Roy, you're talking about a witchhunt.

ROY: Call it what you will. Look, I'm not ecstatic about the idea either, but we have to be realistic. This is coming and there is nothing you or me can do to stop it. And this won't just have good repercussions for you, it will help the Batman as well.

GRAYSON: And all I have to do is go public with my identity...

ROY: Do you see any of the things that we worried about happening to me? I'm not swamped with groupies, I'm not attacked at home. Joining the DEO was the best thing that ever happened to me.

GRAYSON: I can't do it. If people find out about me, it will lead back to Bruce. And I cannot accept that.

ROY: Alright, man. But remember, I warned you. I'll try to look out for you, but I can't promise...

GRAYSON: Yeah, yeah, I'll suffer the consequences of my action. Relax, willya? I'm not going to blame you for anything that happens to me.

ROY: You think I sold you, don't you? You think I should've tried to work things out with Ollie.

GRAYSON: No, Roy, I do not think you sold out. I just think... I mean, joining the DEO, wasn't that a little extreme?

ROY: And moving to the most crime-ridden city in America to become a cop isn't?

GRAYSON: Touche.

ROY: Say, are you and Clancy...

GRAYSON: Are we... No.

ROY: Great! Because you know me and Asian chicks.

He waggles his eyebrows.

ROY: You know what I'm saying? Got her a little sumpthin-sumpthin, yeah!

Roy walks towards the door.

ROY: (casual) Oh, before I forget, you wouldn't have happened to have run across... Dinah... would you?

GRAYSON: No, I haven't... I mean, I've seen her once or twice...

ROY: She say anything about me?

GRAYSON: No. But I wasn't exactly having long conversations. (quickly) Not that we were doing anything but talking, of course...

ROY: No, no, it's cool. Think about my offer, alright?

EXT. DARKNESS – NIGHT

A black glove is pulled taut. The autoloader is snapped shut, locking it in place. Strips of black cloth are wrapped firmly around a head, forming a servicable cowl. A de-cel line anchorhead is tested, PRONGS shooting out of the sides, forming a grappling hook. A Birdarang is armed and thrown into camera, transporting us to...

EXT. TENEMENT – NIGHT

GRAYSON (not Nightwing yet) stands on the ledge of a rooftop, staring down, loose ends of the cowl blowing in the breeze. The armor doesn't quite fit him and there's a sheen of unprofessionalism and awkwardness to him and his appearance, but it's a start.

Voices drift up from below.

MAN: (O.S.) You want me in jail? You want that, Marie? How'm I s'posed to find a job if I'm in jail? You ever think of that?

Grayson walks along the rooftop, keeping pace with the voice as it moves through its apartment.

MAN: (O.S.) 'Course not! You only think a' yourself! You think a'what I'm goin' through?

WOMAN: (O.S.) Please... the baby...

MAN: (O.S.) You know what, Marie? You make me sick! You both make me sick! If you don't straighten up, there'll be hell to pay!

Grayson jumps off the rooftop.

INT. TENEMENT – NIGHT

Grayson swings into the apartment right through the window. The man doesn’t even have time to get a word out before Grayson’s clobbered him. Angry, Grayson keeps threshing him, finally knocking him unconscious against the wall. Grayson looks at his body for a moment, breathing heavily. The battered woman touches his shoulder. He swings around, about to hit her when he sees who it is.

GRAYSON:: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... I thought.

WOMAN: I understand. Adrenaline. Excitement of the hunt. You must have been pumped. It’s all right.

GRAYSON: No it’s not alright! Losing it is never alright! Acting in anger is wrong. It’s wrong.

WOMAN: I just wanted to thank you, that’s all.

GRAYSON: I don’t do it for thanks. I don’t know why I do it. Not anymore.

Suddenly, we hear BOOMS in the distance.

EXT. ROOFTOP – NIGHT

Grayson crests the edge of the roof, sees FLASHES OF LIGHT on the horizon. Gunshots.


Next: Double Trouble

 

[Zev]

INT. MONORAIL – NIGHT

MARGOT MARCEAU, 20, lands on the rooftop. Her twin sister, ALIKI MARCEAU, 18, steps away from the controls and opens a window and Margot wiggles in. Both are beautiful, French, and dressed in matching acrobatic outfits. She holds a BOX (about the size of a Haliburton) with extendible shoulder straps and a handle on it, so it can be carried both as a backpack and a briefcase.

ALIKI: I heard gunfire, Margot. I was worried.

MARGOT: Don't be silly, little sister.

ALIKI: Do you have the prize?

MARGOT: Of course. Have I ever failed?

They check a SERIAL NUMBER on the handle of the Box.

MARGOT: Tres bien.

ALIKI: Mais oui.

They shove it into a bag.

GRAYSON: (O.S.) You're trespassing.

The twins turn. Grayson is lurking in the shadows of the flickering light at the end of the train.

MARGOT: You don't own the night.

GRAYSON: I AM the night.

He steps forward.

ALIKI: (love at first sight) Les Ailes de la nuit!

GRAYSON: Give it here.

MARGOT: You heard the man Aliki. Give it to him.

Aliki smiles and somersaults forward, ending her stunt with a boot to Grayson's face. He stumbles backwards, the light strobing chaotically. Grayson wipes a spot of blood from his lips.

GRAYSON: Nice moves.

He moves in, blocking and parrying her attacks.

GRAYSON: But I have a few of my own.

She goes for a roundhouse kicks. He ducks under it and she stubs her foot against a support pole.

ALIKI: (crying out in pain) Non!

Grayson shoves her back. Margot catches her sister and sets Aliki down on a chair.

MARGOT: My turn, layabout.

She moves in, her style harder than Aliki's, less flair. Grayson moves back, blocking, waiting for an opening. He strikes suddenly with a blow to her midsection, driving her back. She gasps for breath next to Aliki.

ALIKI: I'M the layabout?

MARGOT: Shut up and hit him.

They move as one, Margot hitting him high, Aliki going low. Grayson parries furiously with legs and arms, having to fend off both attackers at once. The inevitable happens. They switch places, Margot tackling him to the ground and trapping his arms in a bearhug, Aliki straddling his chest and throttling him with her legs. Grayson struggles, but it looks like they're stuck.

GRAYSON: So... you ladies rob here often?

An OLD LADY walks onto the train. The three stop their wrestling to look at her.

GRAYSON: This is NOT what it looks like.

OLD LADY: Perverts.

She walks off the train. Grayson arms a Birdarang and throws it forward to hit the throttle. The train ROARS FORWARD, sending all three tumbling backwards. Grayson breaks free, grabbing onto a support pole. The twins land in a pile at the end of the train as Grayson stands. They disentangle themselves.

MARGOT: Imagine, Aliki. After all the clumsy policemen and infantile criminals of this country, we finally have a challenge.

ALIKI: But remember, Margot...

MARGOT: Yes, little sister?

ALIKI: I saw him first.

Grayson lunges for the bag. Margot kicks him in the balls. Aliki slaps her.

ALIKI: You hurt him!

MARGOT: He's the enemy, Aliki!

ALIKI: But he's cute!

They fight.

MARGOT: Witch!

ALIKI: Stupid!

GRAYSON: (O.S.) Ladies...

They turn mid-hair pull. Grayson is standing at the open door, bag in hand.

GRAYSON: (O.S.) Thanks for a lovely evening.

He jumps out.

MARGOT AND ALIKI: (to each other) Don't just stand there, GET HIM!

EXT. BLUDHAVEN ROOFTOPS – NIGHT

Grayson runs atop the rooftops. He sees a WATERTOWER on a corner ahead. Pulls out a de-cel line and throws it around one of the watertower's legs, JUMPS out into space. He spins around the watertower, lets go, and lands on top of it. The twins reach the watertower.

MARGOT: Ou est-il?

ALIKI: I don't know, I thought you were watching him!

MARGOT: Ah, formidable! One minute you can't take your eyes off him and the next you've lost him completely!

Grayson jumps down from the WATERTOWER.

GRAYSON: You of all people should know to look up.

He jumps off the building, skydiving downwards. Aliki jumps after him, Margot following.

MARGOT: Aliki?

ALIKI: Oui?

MARGOT: I just wanted to remind you, ma soeur... we're supposed to let him chase us.

ALIKI: Oh, because he will otherwise think us too forward?

MARGOT: Non, mon mineta... because that is our loot!

GRAYSON: You know, your English is very good for a second language.

MARGOT: Why, thank you.

ALIKI: He was talking to me.

GRAYSON: You know what mace is, right?

MARGOT: Of course, one of those spiky clubby things!

GRAYSON: Close.

He throws a BIRDARANG at them. It releases MACE as it passes their faces. They cough and sputter as Grayson wraps his legs around a FLAGPOLE, then catches one of them in each hand. They dangle.

ALIKI: Big sister...

MARGOT: Yes, little sister?

ALIKI: I changed my mind. You can have him.

GRAYSON: Who were you stealing from?

MARGOT: I'm not telling you anything!

GRAYSON: Alright.

He turns his head to Aliki.

GRAYSON: Aliki, wasn't it?

ALIKI: It was.

GRAYSON: That's a very pretty name.

ALIKI: Thank you.

MARGOT: Hmph!

GRAYSON: Who were you stealing for?

ALIKI: The Black Mask.

GRAYSON: Black Mask? He's one sick puppy. A beautiful girl like you shouldn't be working for an ape like that.

MARGOT: That's what I said, but she wouldn't listen.

Grayson turns his attentions back to Margot.

GRAYSON: So you'd be the brains of this group.

ALIKI: Well, obviously I got all the looks.

MARGOT: Don't listen to her, she was adopted.

GRAYSON: Well, then, I'll have to cut the conversation short. Let's do this again real soon.

He pulls them up, handcuffs them together, and leaves the chain hanging around the flagpole.

GRAYSON: One more thing. What does "les Ailes de la nuit" mean anyway?

ALIKI AND MARGOT: Wings of the night.

NIGHTWING: ...catchy.

He throws out a line and swings off.

ALIKI: (sighs) Did you see him, Margot? So agile, so dashing, so handsome...

MARGOT: I saw him, Aliki. I saw him get away with our fortune.

She pulls out a lockpick and begins undoing the handcuffs.

MARGOT: We must make up for this tomorrow night.

They unlock the cuffs and swing away.

INT. PRECINT – CHIEF'S OFFICE – NIGHT

DUDLEY SOAMES is a leather-tough veteran cop, his looks weathered, his hair iron-grey. He could probably kick your ass with a look. The anti-James Gordon. He lights a cigarette, standing in front of CHIEF REDHORN.

SOAMES: You wanted to see me, Chief?

REDHORN: This is on the cu-tee, Inspector.

SOAMES: I surmised that when you called me.

REDHORN: You heard about the theft at Freddy Minh's?

SOAMES: Rumblings.

REDHORN: There was a superhero, a costumed vigilante there! I can't afford some do-gooder in a mask staking out a turf here in Bludhaven. I need this situation contained. So I says to myself, "call Dudley Soames."

SOAMES: Good call, chief.

GRAYSON: (O.S.) You're Chief Redhorn?

The two turn. Grayson stands in the window, holding out the Box.

GRAYSON: We've got to talk. For some reason, Black Mask wants this very badly.

He hands the Box to Redhorn.

REDHORN: You haven't looked inside, have you?

GRAYSON: No. Couldn't figure out the lock, but it looked like it was rigged to blow if it was tampered with.

REDHORN: So, Bludhaven gets its own costumed hero.

He holds out his hand. Grayson shakes it.

GRAYSON: I don't know about that...

Redhorn slaps a handcuff on Grayson.

GRAYSON: Wait a minute... am I under arrest?

Soames draws a gun.

SOAMES: You'll wish you were.


Next: Never Let Them See You Bleed

 

[Zev]

EXT. JUNKYARD – NIGHT

Grayson, hands cuffed behind his back, walks ahead of Soames. Soames keeps his gun trained on Grayson at all times. In the distance, police helicopters sweep xenon beams across the city. Even further in the distance, we see the mountainside communities where the upper crust of Bludhaven society lives. Spotlights shoot upward like pillars of light, almost as if they’re competing with the cops’ artifical daylight.

GRAYSON: Detective Soames, is it?

SOAMES: Inspector Dudley Soames, Bludhaven police.

GRAYSON: And which department do you work out of, Dudley?

SOAMES: I'm sort of my own man, son.

GRAYSON: With "sort of" your own reasons for killing me?

SOAMES: There's an idea.

GRAYSON: Killing me won't buy you any peace, Soames. Your days are numbered on one hand if you do that.

SOAMES: Redhorn and I disagree on many things. Your usefulness to Bludhaven is one of them.

He holsters his weapon.

GRAYSON: Say again?

SOAMES: Smart lad like you must have escaped a dozen situations like this.

GRAYSON: You're not bent?

SOAMES: Let's just say I firmly believe in a more ordered community than we have now. Redhorn will believe me when I tell him you got away from me. Now, let's have those handcuffs.

Grayson throws him the cuffs.

GRAYSON: Don't bother.

Soames returns the key to his pocket.

SOAMES: Smart lad.

GRAYSON: So where do we start?

SOAMES: There's a lot you need to know, but right now something urgent's come up. A serial killer called the Huntress.

GRAYSON: Never heard of her.

SOAMES: She's going after made men. Trying to provoke a gang war. That happens, a lot of innocent people are going to be caught in the crossfire. You bring her to me, I can make things a lot easier for you.

GRAYSON: I'll keep an eye open for her.

SOAMES: Keep both, she's worth it. So, what do they call you, kid?

GRAYSON: ...Nightwing. Expect me when you see me.

SOAMES: Now make it look convincing, son. And mind the bridgework.

Soames's POV as Grayson's fist comes at us...

INT. HOTEL – NIGHT

Grayson sneaks in, tip-toeing his way up the stairs.

GRAYSON: (quietly) Note to self: Next time, remember, window doesn't open from the outside...

CLANCY: (O.S.) That you, Dick?

Grayson looks over the railing to see Clancy looking up at him.

CLANCY: Out for a nightcap?

GRAYSON: Just enjoying the night air. Good for the constitution. Clears the sinuses, you know.

He takes a deep breath, demonstrating.

GRAYSON: Sorry about earlier, didn't mean to be so... surprised.

CLANCY: Forget it. You wouldn't be the first person to do a doubletake at a Chinese girl with a 'Derry brogue.

GRAYSON: Yeah, about that... if you don't mind me asking.

CLANCY: I was adopted by a nice Irish family. I left Hong Kong when I was a baby. I came to America to go to college and never went back.

GRAYSON: I know what it's like. I lost my parents when I was... very young. Eleven. Guy who took me in wasn't exactly a Rom vagabond. Quite the opposite, in fact.

CLANCY: I see it's rubbed off on you.

Grayson looks down at his clothes. He's wearing an expensive coat over his Nightwing suit.

GRAYSON: Oh, this old thing? I just throw this on when I don't care what I look like.

CLANCY: Then maybe you should not care more often. Over dinner, maybe.

GRAYSON: I'll check my calender.

CLANCY: Then I guess it wouldn't do for me to get my hopes up.

GRAYSON: Look, you seem like a nice lady, but I'm just getting settled in, and...

CLANCY: It's alright. I understand. Guess I just thought you never know when romance will strike. Speaking of which, you have any idea when your friend Roy's going to be back in town?

GRAYSON: No, why?

CLANCY: Oh, no reason...

She walks off with a whimsical smile on his face.

GRAYSON: (under his breath) Roy, you dog you...

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson, in bed and half asleep, watches a late-night showing of Bruce Lee's "Game of Death," noting the black stripes on his yellow jumpsuit. He writes it down on a notepad. Closes his eyes for a moment...

INT. BATCAVE – FLASHBACK – TIMELESS

DICK, AGE TWELVE, is bleeding from a cut in his side. His cape and tunic are off. It's pretty bad. He looks like hell. BATMAN stands over him like a disapproving parent.

BATMAN: Bleeding won't stop on it's own. That wound will require sutures.

He sets down a FIRST AID KIT beside Dick. Dick gets the idea. He picks up a NEEDLE AND THREAD.

BATMAN: Here's what you do first...

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson stares at the phone, wanting more than anything to call Barbara, to hear a familiar voice in this city of strangers. But the lesson is still as true now as it was then.

BATMAN: (V.O.) Never let them see you bleed.

The phone rings. Grayson presses mute and picks it up.

GRAYSON: Hello?

BARBARA: (O.S.) Hey, Dick, it's me.

GRAYSON: Oh, I was just thinking about... when you were gonna call.

BARBARA: (O.S.) Yeah, I tried to reach you before...

GRAYSON: I was out.

BARBARA: (O.S.) Yeah...

GRAYSON: With the guys, not with a... so, how can I help you?

We can tell Barbara's smiling on the other end of the line.

BARBARA: (O.S.) Well, I just wanted to check up on you, Officer Grayson.

GRAYSON: First day here and I haven't made any difference.

BARBARA: (filtered) You can't expect to save a city overnight.

GRAYSON: Maybe not ever.

BARBARA: (filtered) Maybe not.

GRAYSON: Bruce just makes it look so easy, you know. It's funny. I look at him and I say "Not me, i'm never getting that obsessed." Then I turn myself inside out trying to... I don't want to be just an empty shell. I don't want to be alone all the time.

That was more than he wanted to give away. Answering the phone was a bad idea.

BARBARA: (filtered) I don't want that either. Anyway, my birthday's next week and...

GRAYSON: I'll be there.

BARBARA: (filtered) You sure?

GRAYSON: Wouldn't miss it for the world.

INT. PRECINCT – BRIEFING ROOM – MORNING

Grayson walks in, dressed in police blues, carrying a box of donuts. He sets them down next to Amy.

GRAYSON: Hey there. Brought the donuts.

AMY: Good work, rookie.

SOAMES sits down next to them as, in the background, CAPTAIN ADDAD takes roll.

SOAMES: Ah, pulling the old "rookie brings donuts" ploy, eh Rohrbach?

AMY: Eat me, Soames.

Soames laughs and pulls out a folder.

SOAMES: So tell me, Amy, how well you know your new partner?

GRAYSON: What?

SOAMES: (shouts) Everyone! I have here Officer Grayson's final evaluation file!

Everyone crowds in.

AMY: C'mon, Soames, don't do this.

GRAYSON: Hey, what's in there?

SOAMES: (reading) "Overall display of boredom in the legal and forensic classes... little enthusiasm for anything involving firearms..." Oooh, listen to this. "Exceptional performance in PT and unarmed combat sessions." So, you don't like guns? Prefer to wrestle around with other men?

AMY: That's supposed to be confidential.

SOAMES: Riiiiiight. C'mon, everyone here can remember when their evaluation file came out. It's a rite of passage.

AMY: It's stupid and illegal.

SOAMES: You have no sense of fun. Hey, what's this? An unauthorized absence from training!

Everyone makes an "oooooh" sound.

SOAMES: Oh, you had a sick relative.

GRAYSON: My Aunt Harriet. She has heart trouble.

SOAMES: Well, that explains it. Oh, and you grew up in the circus before running away to join... Bruce Wayne? You were one of Bruce Wayne's charity case? Raised in the lap of luxury. Why would a billionaire playboy like Wayne take in a circus orphan like you?

The crowd choruses ad-libbed suggestions. Grayson silently fumes.

SOAMES: Could you show us on the doll where Mr. Wayne touched you?

Grayson suddenly slaps the folder out of Soames's hands. The crowd falls dead silent.

SOAMES: What's your problem, lad? Just a wee bit of fun.

GRAYSON: Not for me.

ADDAD: (O.S.) We got a problem?

Soames turns to Captain Addad.

SOAMES: No problem, cap'n.

ADDAD: Good. Rohrbach, Grayson, you're up.

INT. POLICE CAR – DAY

Amy drives again. Grayson sips a cup of coffee. The usual chaos goes on outside the window, constant as the Northern Star.

GRAYSON: Soames really do that with every rookie?

AMY: Yeah. He thinks of it like a kind of hazing. I figure your T.O. must've given you enough hazing, unless the commish pulled a few strings...

GRAYSON: Does everybody know about me dating Gordon's daughter?

AMY: Mysterious, handsome transfer from Gotham City? And you're wondering why you're being gossiped about?

GRAYSON: I'm not mysterious.

AMY: Give it time. So, what's the story with you two?

GRAYSON: We used to have this... thing we did together. Kinda an exclusive club. Then she had an accident and couldn't do it anymore. After that, we kinda drifted apart.

AMY: You never tried to reach out to her?

GRAYSON: Every damn day.

AMY: Sore subject?

GRAYSON: Very. Oh Jesus, it's time...

He turns on the radio, flips through the stations...

AMY: Do I ever want to know?

GRAYSON: Congressional hearings on Gotham federal aid.

AMY: Seeing if anyone's going to put out the home fires?

GRAYSON: Yeah.

We hear a voice come over the radio, low, charismatic, hypnotic... no more than a harsh whisper, but you can make out every word.

VOICE: (filtered) The truth is that there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn't there? If you look about, you witness cruelty, injustice and despotism. But what do you do about it? What can you do? You are but a single individual. How can you possible make any difference? By joining the Church of Blood, you become something greater than yourself...

Grayson turns off the radio in disgust.

AMY: Not a fan of Brother Blood?

GRAYSON: The hokey new-age mysticism I can stand, but when he starts calling for my hometown to be torn down because it's a "den of iniquity"...

AMY: Forget him, he's a fad. Twenty years from now he's a Trivial Pursuit question.

GRAYSON: Hope you're right. (sarcastically) But if he's on FM instead of AM, it must be a legitimate religion.

AMY: Don't let Kelly hear you talking like that.

GRAYSON: Kelly? He always seemed like such a smart guy. Now you say he's been taken in by this fruity little club..

Grayson shakes his head. They drive in silence for a while.

AMY: Well, since we're stuck with each other, I'd like to know more about you.

GRAYSON: And that takes what form?

AMY: Dinner at my house.

GRAYSON: Amy, I'm not sure that's such a good...

AMY: I do outrank you, remember. My place, tomorrow at eight. That's an order, partner.

INT. PRECINCT – CHIEF'S OFFICE – EVENING

Chief Redhorn is on the phone. The Box is on his desk.

REDHORN: Yes, I've got it, no, I am not giving it back. See, I've been wondering how you're going to run the city without this little betsy. And I'm wondering how much it's worth to you. You think real hard about that, alright?

He hangs up.

INT. PRECINCT – CENTRAL BOOKING – EVENING

Soames and a group of CORRUPT COPS watch the chief's office. Soames gets a message on his beeper. Checks the readout, puts it away.

SOAMES: Redhorn won't play ball. You know what to do.

He drops a briefcase next to the wall and walks away. One corrupt cop walks away, comes to a FIRE ALARM. He PULLS IT.

EXT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Amy and Grayson pull up to the station to see people streaming out.

GRAYSON: What the hell's going on? Bomb threat?

AMY: Nah, we ignore them. You would too if you got them twenty times a week...

Nearby, Soames pulls out a cell-phone. Dials in "666."

SOAMES: I really should wait for everyone to safely evacuate. (beat) Ah, screw it.

He presses dial.

INT. PRECINCT – CENTRAL BOOKING – EVENING

The BRIEFCASE Soames dropped EXPLODES.

EXT. PRECINCT – EVENING

All the windows blow out at once. A third of the rooftop is disintegrated instantly. Cop and perp alike take shelter as debris rains down on everything. SMOKE descends on them like mist.


Next: Siege

 

[DeGenerate10]

Its pretty good keep up the good work.

 

[Zev]

INT. PRECINCT – CENTRAL BOOKING – EVENING

The rubble settles. The blast has left a huge HOLE in the ground. As we watch, a LADDER hits the lip of the hole. And the FOUR VILLAINS ascend.

ELECTROCUTIONER is the first up. His hands crackle with electricity. He is thin and unathletic, coasting by on his powers. He wears a latex-red suit at all times to rein in his electrical powers. Wire-rim glasses rest above his perpetual sneer for a world he can't touch.

ELECTROCUTIONER: Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we go.

BRUTALE wears stitched-together leather and keeps hundreds on knives, usually double-edged throwing knives ("scalpels"), on his person in bandoliers or packs. He is an exceptionally vicious and sadistic man, the meanest of the bunch.

BRUTALE: Can someone please tell that oaf about the meaning of "professionalism"?

STALLION is the next up. The biggest of the pack, he's dressed as a cowboy... ten-gallon hat, sleeveless vest. His trousers are a faded blue with a yellow strip down the leg. A highly-adept legbreaker, not all that bright.

STALLION: So, what does this coyote look like?

LADY VIC is the last up, the leader of the pack. An English mercenary, latest in a long line of mercenaries extending back to her family's Norman roots. She's armed with an arsenal of exotic weapons, relics of her ancestry. A Webley-Fosberry .45.5 revolver is slung at her hip.

LADY VIC: I think he pinched my bum at the last office Christmas party.

These, then, are our villains. Don't let their petty bickering fool you. Each one of them is a consumate professional, a veteran of countless gang wars and other crimes, risen through the ranks with sheer ruthlessness and maintaining their position with calculated brutality. They do about their work with bored ease: another day, another dollar.

EXT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Amy argues with Soames.

AMY: There are still people in there!

SOAMES: What do you want me to do? Fire department's still fifteen minutes out!

GRAYSON: I'm going in.

AMY: What?

Grayson is already striding towards the bombed-out building, stripping off his jacket and bulletproof vest. Amy chases after him as Soames lurks in the background, impressed.

AMY: What, are you high? You can't go in there by yourself!

GRAYSON: Watch me.

INT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Grayson hurries through the stirred up smoke. Impossible to see your hand in front of your face. He's about to stumble right into the villains when...

LADY VIC: (O.S.) Remember who owns you!

Then there's a smack of flesh-on-flesh contact and Chief Redhorn cries out. That came from his office. Grayson turns. Through the swirling mist he makes out FIVE SHAPES. Trouble.

Immediately he ducks behind a wall and rips open his shirt, revealing the spray-painted-on blue NIGHTWING LOGO.

INT. PRECINCT – CHIEF'S OFFICE – EVENING

Brutale has Redhorn pinned to the wall with a scalpel through the arm.

BRUTALE: Now, where is it?

Redhorn's eyes betray him: he glances at his desk. With a nod from Lady Vic, Stallion RIPS IT OPEN. Lady Vic picks up the Box.

LADY VIC: We're done here. Let's ghost.

Suddenly, a SHADOW appears on the wall. What looks like a HORNED HEAD. BATMAN. The crooks whirl around to see that NIGHTWING is using the pointer and pinky finger of his hand to make a shadow puppet with a flashlight. Nightwing turns the flashlight under his face like he was telling a scary campfire story.

NIGHTWING: Just kidding.

The villains regard him.

LADY VIC: Who's turn is it to fight the hero?

BRUTALE: I had to do it last time.

ELECTROCUTIONER: It's Stallion's turn!

STALLION: Nuh-uh, ah won the bet. S'your turn!

LADY VIC: Do it, Electrocutioner, we don't have all day.

ELECTROCUTIONER: Lady Vic!

LADY VIC: Now.

Electrocutioner steps forward, hands cackling with power. Immediately, Nightwing jerks his arm and a BIRDARANG flies into his hand, unfurling. He throws it into a SPRINKLER above Electrocutioner. Water pours down, SHORT-CIRCUITING the Electrocutioner. He falls to the ground, letting off wisps of smoke. The three remaining villains are taken aback.

LADY VIC: Well, didn't see that one coming. Stallion, you're up.

STALLION: I'll sidestraddle the varmint!

Nightwing looks up at the much, much bigger man.

NIGHTWING: Bring it on, Brokeback Mountain.

INT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Nightwing somersaults out of the office as Stallion rampages after him. Nightwing impressively acrobats his way away from the man-mountain as Lady Vic, carrying the Box, and Brutale, carrying Electrocutioner, exit the office.

INT. PRECINCT – HOMICIDE DIVISION – EVENING

Deserted. Row upon row of desk. Stallion barely squeezes between them. Nightwing jumps up onto a desk. Stallion turns towards him, bangs his knee on a desk. He's effectively hemmed in. Nightwing smirks.

NIGHTWING: Looks like you just got corralled.

Stallion takes a wild swing at him, throwing himself off-balance. Nightwing catches Stallion's outstretched arm in the crock of his elbow and – CRACK! -- rips it out of the socket. Stallion HOWLS with pain as Nightwing somersaults over him, grabs his other arm, and DISLOCATES it as well. While Stallion is still stunned with pain, Nightwing loops a length of de-cel cord around his neck and embeds the other end in the ceiling, then sandwiches Stallion between two desks.

NIGHTWING: That should keep you on a tight leash. Now, where are your friends heading?

STALLION: I'm gonna make yer head into a canoe!

NIGHTWING: That sounds painful.

Nightwing draws another Birdarang and holds it to Stallion's crotch.

NIGHTWING: Talk or I make you a gelding. The salient points are... your friends. Their destination. Anything you'd like to add?

STALLION: The Spine... they're making their escape down the Spine!

NIGHTWING: There, now don't you feel good about yourself? By the way, you’re under arrest.

He bounds to the window. Outside, we see Lady Vic, Brutale, and Electrocutioner hijacking an ambulance. He tries the window. Won't budge. Without hesitation he scoops up a chair and SMASHES IT OPEN.

AMY: (O.S.) HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!

Nightwing turns to see Amy with a gun trained on him.

AMY: You're under arrest!

NIGHTWING: (incredulous) On what charge?

AMY: (re: window) Vandalism. Keep your hands where I can see them!

NIGHTWING: Easy. We're on the same side.

AMY: You can tell that to the judge!

NIGHTWING: Love to, but I've gotta fly. You know how it is.

He jumps out the window.

EXT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Nightwing slaps his arms against his sides (CLICK!), then spreads them. GLIDER WINGS unfurl between his arms and his body. He GLIDES down to the street. The COPS are taken aback. You would be too.

NIGHTWING'S POV
As he spins around, looking for a...

NIGHTWING: Motorcycle, motorcycle...

NEW ANGLE on Nightwing as he settles on something.

NIGHTWING: Doable.

He jumps up onto a MOUNTED COP'S horse.

NIGHTWING: Officer, I'm commandeering your... horse.

Somehow being both very gentle and very quick, he deposits the officer on the ground and TAKES OFF.

NO LONGER MOUNTED COP: ...he stole my horse!

EXT. STREETS – EVENING

Everything's twisted. Interstates, throughroads, and freeways butcher the city like a carcass. No road goes from here to there in a straight line and they're all under repair all the time. Nightwing legs the horse through bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. The ambulance has the advantage of sirens. He doesn't, so he has to rely on weaving in and out of traffic. A CAR DOOR opens in front of him. The horse jumps it.

NIGHTWING: Yah! Yah!

INT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

Brutale is driving, Lady Vic lounging in the passenger seat. Electrocutioner is in the back, atop a GURNEY. Lady Vic applies some lipstick, checks herself out in the rear-view mirror. Sees NIGHTWING gaining on them. She does a double-take.

LADY VIC: (to herself) You're having a funny sort of day, Elaine.

She draws her sidearm, climbs past Electrocutioner, and throws open the double doors at the back of the ambulance. She OPENS FIRE on Nightwing.

EXT. STREETS – EVENING

Nightwing slides to the side, hanging off the saddle, and throws back a BIRDARANG at her.

INT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

Lady Vic ducks. The Birdarang flies over her and neatly clips an AIR FRESHENER before wimping out against the windshield. Lady Vic rises and fires into the horse's legs.

EXT. STREETS – EVENING

The horse goes down. Nightwing tucks and rolls, getting clear of the equine wreckage. He stands up as the ambulance makes its getaway. Looks at the horse. Looks back at the ambulance.

NIGHTWING: Alright... now it's personal.

He STARTS RUNNING.

INT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

Lady Vic sits back down, reloads her gun.

BRUTALE: We lose him?

Lady Vic looks at the Birdarang.

LADY VIC: Don't think it's going to be that easy.

She tries to pick up the Birdarang. Tries to, anyway. It's leaked out an ADHESIVE that's stuck it to the dashboard but good. Brutale covers his face as she unloads three bullets into it.

LADY VIC: As soon as we get off the freeway we're going to have to acquire a new means of transportation.

EXT. STREETS – EVENING

Nightwing continues sprinting. The ambulance is nowhere in sight. He raises a hand to his ear, activating a RADIO.

NIGHTWING: Oracle, this is Nightwing! I need immediate surveillence and tracking information on north Bludhaven outskirts, no grid number! Reposition a satellite and...

ORACLE: (filtered) Nightwing, I don't have any satellites in orbit. This isn't Gotham.

NIGHTWING: Not like I could forget.

He checks a MULTI-DISPLAY (think a miniature PDA) on his wrist. Something very much like a compass, only with two hands. One points north. The other points towards the tracker Nightwing just planted. Before Nightwing's eyes, the second hand starts going crazy, spinning around and around.

NIGHTWING: Damnit!

He puts on the speed.

INT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Soames, moving through the precinct, comes across a PILE OF DICK GRAYSON'S CLOTHES. He picks up the uniform, reads the name tag.

SOAMES: Huh.

EXT. CLOVERLEAF – EVENING

A massive, congested highway "cloverleaf." The heart of Bludhaven's street system, a Gordian knot that every road runs through. Nightwing stops for a second in the middle of it, hands on his knees, panting. Feels like his lungs are about to burst. He looks in all directions. Sees the AMBULANCE. The double doors swinging open identify it instantly. Bingo. He draws a length of de-cel cord from a dispenser built into his belt/harness. There's an unfinished overpass over him.

NIGHTWING: It's never easy, is it?

He threads the cord through a Birdarang.

NIGHTWING: They can't get a flat tire or throw a rod, they have to make a clean getaway...

He throws the Birdarang up. It catches on the overpass.

NIGHTWING: Tally ho.

He jumps and SWINGS. Hits the ground running, going with the flow of traffic... traffic going at about sixty miles per hour. He grabs a bumper and pulls himself onto a car, shaking loose his line and pulling it back in like Zorro with his whip. Safe for the moment, he gets his bearings, then starts jumping from car to car, towards the ambulance.

INT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

Lady Vic, scanning vigilantly for Nightwing, catches a glimpse of him as he runs atop a semi.

LADY VIC: The man has the tired determination of a cold bug.

She begins STRAPPING ELECTROCUTIONER into the gurney.

ELECTROCUTIONER: Hey, hey, what are you doing!?

LADY VIC: Allowing you a chance to regain your honor.

ELECTROCUTIONER: That's quite unnecessary, I'm feeling just...

She pushes the gurney out the door!

EXT. FREEWAY – EVENING

Nightwing sees the gurney coming towards him. On it, Electrocutioner panics, SCREAMING. LIGHTNING BOLTS shoot out of him, threatening to fry everything in the area. Nightwing gets a running start over a limo and LEAPS, contorting in mid-air to dodge between two arc of electricity. He lands on the gurney, crouching over Electrocutioner like a vampire over his next victim.

NIGHTWING: Shut up.

He knocks Electrocutioner out cold with a quick elbow to the face. Then throws his line out, the Birdarang catching on the Ambulance's rear bumper. He ties his end to the gurney's headboard and now he, Electrocutioner, and the entire gurney are being "towed" behind the ambulance like a water-skier. He looks over to see a STUNNED FAMILY OF FOUR in a sedan.

NIGHTWING: I know, I know, it looks dangerous, but it's environmentally sound and it gets great gas mileage.

Ahead of him, Lady Vic coolly draws a bead on him. Nightwing draws a Birdarang and hurls it at her, knocking the gun out of her hands. It flies into the air and lands roadside, where it's run over by a car.

LADY VIC: That gun was a treasured family heirloom!

NIGHTWING: Lady, you got a messed-up family. And coming from me, that's saying something.

He "reels himself in" (pulling the gurney closer to the ambulance hand over hand) with the de-cel cord as Lady Vic draws a BUNDI DAGGER (a grooved double-edged blade with a curious grip equipped with long metal wrist guards) and begins to saw it off. Just as she cuts it, Nightwing JUMPS out, hands outstretched, grabs hold of the top of the ambulance, and swings his feet squarely into Lady Vic's midsection.

INT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

The force of Nightwing's kick has sprawled Lady Vic across the front seat. Her head rests against the gearshift. She raises her bundi dagger into view.

LADY VIC: For that, I'm gonna peel your face... off.

Nightwing draws a Birdarang.

NIGHTWING: I don't think so.

He THROWS the Birdarang... but not at her. Instead, it hits the CLUTCH on the steering wheel. The vehicle LURCHES as it goes into park. Nightwing ducks as the GURNEY catches up with them. It hits the back of the ambulance and FLIPS over Nightwing, slamming into Lady Vic. Nightwing spots the BOX sliding across the floor. He SCOOPS IT UP and jumps out the back, swinging onto the top of the ambulance.

EXT. AMBULANCE – EVENING

Nightwing puts on the Box like a backpack, then JUMPS onto a CAR CARRIER in the next lane.

EXT. FREEWAY – EVENING

Nightwing jumps from car to car, being pursued by Lady Vic. She twirls a BOLO above her head, THROWS IT. Nightwing's legs are CAUGHT. He falls into an empty garbage truck.

EXT. GARBAGE TRUCK – EVENING

Nightwing looks up from the COMPACTOR he's fallen into as Lady Vic runs across the edge of the garbage truck.

INT. GARBAGE TRUCK – EVENING

Lady Vic jumps down onto the windshield, startling the DRIVER.

LADY VIC: Turn on the crusher or I'll kill you.

He does.

EXT. GARBAGE TRUCK – EVENING

The walls start closing in as Nightwing saws the bolo with a Birdarang. Lady Vic looks down at him.

LADY VIC: Throw up the Box and I'll stop the machine.

NIGHTWING: You do know that lies make Baby Jesus cry, right?

LADY VIC: The Box is small enough to survive the process. You aren't. You have no idea what you're trifling with.

Nightwing is looking for a way out of the death trap.

NIGHTWING: Then educate me, Vickie.

LADY VIC: Lady Vic is not a familiar version of "Victoria." It is a sobriquet given to me by my clients – Lady Victims. And you will join their ranks presently.

NIGHTWING: Sorry, got other plans.

Over Lady Vic, STREETLIGHTS are passing... Nightwing pulls out another de-cel cord, springs the prongs...

LADY VIC: I'd really rather not kill you... no profit in it... but you're leaving me no other choice.

Spinning the length of de-cel cord, Nightwing counts out the interval between streetlights.

NIGHTWING: One...

The walls are only feet apart.

NIGHTWING: Two...

He throws. The grappling hook CATCHES on the highway pass and he's YANKED out of the compacter just in time, his arms nearly wrenched out of their sockets..

NIGHTWING: Three!

But now he's right in the path of an oncoming CEMENT MIXER. He lets go and it passes over him. He grabs onto the bottom of the truck and pulls himself off the road, now hanging on for dear life.

EXT. CEMENT MIXER – EVENING

The cement mixer starts to cross a bridge as Lady Vic jumps onto the cab. Looks at the road behind. No Nightwing. Suddenly Nightwing swings up and kicks her onto the slowly-rotating DRUM on the back of the truck. Since it's spinning, anyone standing on the drum has to walk to the side to avoid falling off. Calmly, deliberately, Nightwing shrugs off the Box, sets it down on the cab, and steps onto the drum.

LADY VIC: You're still with us?

NIGHTWING: I always overstay my welcome.

LADY VIC: Bad form, that.

The cement mixer drives onto a bridge as they engage. Quick punches. The constantly rotating drum adding another dimension to the fight. Nightwing takes a rabbit-punch to the throat and nearly falls off. He hurries to catch up with the rotation as Lady Vic goes for a leg-sweep. Nightwing jumps over the kick and lands atop the drum. Knees Lady Vic in the face. She goes over the edge... unfortunately, not in the direction the drum is rotating. She grabs hold of the drum and it pulls her back up... right in front of the Box.

Lady Vic grabs the Box by a shoulder strap. Nightwing grabs it by the other strap. Lady Vid draws her bundi dagger just as Nightwing draws one of two escrima sticks from hilts parallel to his shoulder blades. They play tug-of-war with the Box, still duelling. Nightwing throws his head back just in time to avoid having his throat slashed. He pulls the Box upwards, blocking a slash from Lady Vic, then knocks her dagger backwards with a swing from his escrima stick, forcing her dagger to cut through the strap Lady Vic is hanging onto. This allows Nightwing to pull the Box away from her. Lady Vic doesn't have time to protest this as Nightwing immediately swings his escrima stick into her face, sending her flying off the cement mixer and off the bridge entirely, landing in the drink.

NIGHTWING: That was for the horse!

THWAP! A HARPOON hits the Box, sticking to it. A voluptuous woman in full black leather motorcycle suit holding a CROSSBOW is riding next to them.. She hits a lever on the crossbow and a built-in winch reels the Box in. As well as pulling Nightwing off the drum.The Rider veers to the right and CATCHES Nightwing with her bike. He straddles the cycle behind her and wraps an arm around her throat.

NIGHTWING: Give me one good reason...

RIDER: I just saved your life. Plus, I'm really hot.

Suddenly a KNIFE flies into Nightwing's arm, right where the Rider's neck would be if he weren't choking her. Nightwing grunts as the Rider shoves the Box into his arms and loads a new bolt into her crossbow.

In the next lane, BRUTALE pulls another knife when the Rider shoots a bolt through his window. It passes inside the "circle" of the steering wheel and sticks in the tachometer. Up ahead is a wide TURN. Brutale tries to steer left. The steering wheel catches on the arrow, which forces the ambulance to keep going straight ahead. The ambulance goes off the road, CRASHING SPECTACULARLY.

On the motorcycle, Nightwing PULLS OFF the Rider's helmet. LONG DARK HAIR spills out. She turns around and we see a mask. Behind it, a refined, classically beautiful face. Drop-dead gorgeous.

For the record, HUNTRESS.

NIGHTWING: Who the hell are you?

HUNTRESS: My name's Huntress. I'm one of the good guys... in a very simple world, at least. And this is where you get off.

She POPS A WHEELIE, dumping Nightwing off the back of the motorcycle. He rolls off... right into the path of an oncoming car. With perfect timing, he transitions from rolling into a sprint and RUNS OVER THE CAR like Jackie Chan. Lands and looks at the motorcycle, receding in the distance.

NIGHTWING: I think I'm in love.


Next: Magnetic Attraction

 

[Zev]

EXT. PRECINCT – EVENING

Several minutes later. Amy sits on the curb as Grayson, back in his cop clothes, walks up to her.

GRAYSON: You're never going to believe this.

She looks up sharply.

AMY: Grayson!

GRAYSON: I got into the place and then got lost. I missed everything.

AMY: (standing) You stupid jerk!

GRAYSON: Amy...

AMY: What was the idea? You're a rookie!

GRAYSON: Look, I got caught up in the moment. I got up the stairs and with the smoke and noise I lost my sense of direction. More guts than brains, huh?

AMY: You scared me to death. Think of the paperwork if you got kakked...

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson holds a bag of ice to his head, reloading his autoloader and de-cel cord dispenser. The speaker phone is on.

BARBARA: (filtered) So, you want me to find a single woman in a city of eight million. You don't have a name or get a good look at her face. And you need this because she stole something, but you don't know what.

GRAYSON: That's about the size of it, Babs.

BARBARA: (filtered) Why can't you guys ever call with an easy one? A recipe for carrot cake. Whether or not The Shield's a rerun tonight...

Grayson looks at his dinner. A bowl of cereal.

GRAYSON: Carrot cake sounds better than a soggy bowl of corn flakes.

BARBARA: (filtered) I kinda like 'em soggy.

GRAYSON: Ow. And I was just about to propose.

BARBARA: (filtered) Cool your pipes, Grayson. Now, what can you tell me about this mystery woman?

GRAYSON: She called herself Huntress. Judging by how fast she got in and out, I'd say she's been operating here at least a few months. Preferred weapon is a crossbow.

BARBARA: (filtered) Probably have something for you by tomorrow. It'll go down easier if you can hook me up with a description?

GRAYSON: Italian... no accent, probably born in America... Five foot eleven or thereabouts, hundred and thirty-five pounds or less... (getting lost) Beestung lips, dark silken hair, big blue eyes you could just lose yourself in...

BARBARA: (filtered) Alright, thanks, that's enough, I'll run a search. Good night.

She hangs up.

GRAYSON: Breasts that just...

Grayson hears the dial tone and looks at the phone.

GRAYSON: What'd I say?

INT. HOTEL – MORNING

Grayson sits at the breakfast table, eating a batch of pancakes. JOHN LAW, a very clean old man, reaches for one. Clancy slaps his hand.

CLANCY: You can have some of the pancakes when you pay your rent.

JOHN: I'll have it for you by tonight.

CLANCY: Then you can have your pancakes tonight. Off with you, now.

Grayson takes another bite.

GRAYSON: So that's how you get people to pay their rent.

CLANCY: It works better than shutting off the water. I guess more people can live without running water than they can without pancakes.

GRAYSON: Words to live by.

Clancy sits down across from him, cuts herself a pancake.

CLANCY: Save some for the others, will you?

GRAYSON: Sorry. Guess I worked up an appetite last night. So... career at IHOP didn't work out, you decided to buy a hotel?

CLANCY: I used to just be the super. Then the owner went crazy and gave this whole place to me. Can you imagine a worse curse?

GRAYSON: Oh, this place isn't that bad.

CLANCY: You're just saying that because you don't know about the... never mind.

GRAYSON: No, really. There are good people here. That's what makes a place nice to live in.

CLANCY: That and running water, clean air, and indoor plumbing.

GRAYSON: Well, okay, those are important too...

She smiles.

CLANCY: 'Good people'. Anyone ever tell you you're a bit of an optimist?

GRAYSON: Not really.

CLANCY: Well, guess we don't have as much in common as I thought.

GRAYSON: Don't be such a pessimist. There's no future in it.

CLANCY: You haven't even been in this 'burg a week.

GRAYSON: And yet things are already starting to look up. Amazing, isn't it? C'mon, there must be something more you want out of life...

CLANCY: To be honest? I always did want to be a doctor.

GRAYSON: Well, there ya go. Ever think of applying to pre-med?

CLANCY: And where would I get the money? I'm living from paycheck to paycheck here... and other people's paychecks at that!

GRAYSON: There are scholarships.

CLANCY: Like where?

GRAYSON: Oh, the Wayne Foundation has a program.

CLANCY: I'm never that lucky.

GRAYSON: You'd be surprised.

CLANCY: You're actin' bloody mysterious, Grayson.

GRAYSON: Yeah, I do that sometimes.

INT. PRECINCT – DAY

Soames gets some coffee as Grayson approaches him.

GRAYSON: Hey, we kinda met the other day. I'm...

SOAMES: Grayson, Richard J, Jr, officer. I've heard of you. You're supposed to be a real hotshot.

GRAYSON: That a bad thing?

SOAMES: Not in my book. What can I do you for?

GRAYSON: I want to make detective. I hear you can help.

SOAMES: Maybe. Tell me, son, what are you willing to do to get the gold shield?

GRAYSON: Almost anything.

SOAMES: "Almost"... Only two ways to move up in this department. A big bust that makes the six o'clock news or play the game.

GRAYSON: A big bust... like Blockbuster?

SOAMES: That's a dangerous name.

GRAYSON: How close are you to a bust?

SOAMES: Bust Blockbuster? You're a dreamer. The guy is smoke. We just pick up his second- and third-stringers. We get to feel like we're doing something... he gets to rake millions off the street.

GRAYSON: But what do YOU know about him?

SOAMES: Nothing. Not even his real name. If you're thinking of making detective off him, maybe you should rethink your career goals.

INT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

HELENA BERTINELLI has just stepped out of the shower, hair still wet, body wrapped in a towel. An unusual way to answer the door. Grayson is standing there in a CABLE REPAIRMAN'S OUTFIT. Thick square-frame glasses cover his face.

GRAYSON: Hi, I'm here to fix the cable.

HELENA: I don't have cable.

Grayson looks around conspiringly.

GRAYSON: Got a hundred bucks? I can hook you up. Free cable.

HELENA: If it's free cable, what's the hundred for?

GRAYSON: Expenses. You want it or not?

HELENA: Come on in.

Grayson steps inside. The place is small, but cozy. The TV is across from a desk with numerous papers on it, waiting to be graded. He walks over to it and begins fiddling around.

GRAYSON: Nice place you got here.

HELENA: Teacher's salary.

GRAYSON: Ah.

HELENA: I'm going to get dressed. There's nothing worth stealing, so don't bother.

Grayson continues working behind the TV as she steps into the bathroom. Slips a LISTENING DEVICE out of his belt and plants it by the rabbit-ears.

HELENA: (O.S.) That gonna let me get Skinemax?

Grayson turns around. Helena has a crossbow trained on him.

GRAYSON: Nice hardware.

HELENA: If you can't protect yourself, someone will always have to do it for you.

GRAYSON: Catchy.

HELENA: My father thought so. But seriously, glasses? Did you think I was stupid?

GRAYSON: (defensively) I parted my hair on the other side too.

HELENA: I hope you like it that way. It's how you're going to be looking at your funeral.

GRAYSON: I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

HELENA: Oh? And why's that?

GRAYSON: Because if I can find you, so can they.

We hear the steadily-approaching CHUPCHUPCHUP of an approaching helicopter.

GRAYSON: What's that?

HELENA: (concerned, trying not to show it) Cop chopper. They buzz the Moores to make it look like they matter.

GRAYSON: You sure about that?

A huge CLANG as something hits the rooftop.

HELENA: What the hell was that?

GRAYSON: Trouble.

EXT. TRAILER PARK – EVENING

A large JUNKYARD MAGNET, attached by chain to the underbelly of a HELICOPTER, has latched on to Helena's mobile home. The trailer is PULLED INTO THE AIR!

INT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

Grayson and Helena brace themselves.

HELENA: You had better tell your friends to call off the dogs or else...

GRAYSON: (fed up) Lady, if I feel so much as one arrow hit me, I am going to emancipate your teeth!

Helena smoothly moves to the wall, jerks a knife from a hiding place, and THROWS IT past Grayson. It shatters a window on its way to hit a FALSEFACER (common thug in a random novelty mask). Helena keeps her aim on Grayson.

HELENA: Still not moving.

GRAYSON: How many knives do you have in this place?

HELENA: Stopped counting after a hundred. Now tell them to back off!

GRAYSON: Those are Falsefacers. Black Mask's men. Now, if you'll review your short-term memory, I think you'll find that we're on the same side, remember? We have a common enemy.

HELENA: How do I know I can trust you?

GRAYSON: You've got the crossbow! How do I know I can trust you?

HELENA: ...alright, what are you suggesting?

GRAYSON: This place have a water heater?

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

The Falsefacers, attached to the helicopter by safety lines, rappel down the chain and onto the roof of the trailer. Their leader, RENARD, a deadly man wearing a fox mask, ***** his weapon as his men attach two additional cables from the helicopter to the trailer, lightening the load.

RENARD: Find the box. Try to take them alive. Black Mask's eager to try out his new torture chamber.

INT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

A trio of Falsefacers break in through the window. See that the carpetting has been pulled up. Under it, and a removed floorboard, the PILOT LIGHT has been blown up and the GAS LINE has been broken. The Falsefacers look to the other end of the trailer to see NIGHTWING climbing out a window, holding an INCENDIARY BIRDARANG.

NIGHTWING: Disco inferno.

He throws the Incendiary Birdarang. It bursts into flames as soon as it leaves his hand, IGNITING THE GAS!

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

The Falsefacers are blown off the mobile home. Luckily for them, the trailer is close enough to the ground for them to survive the fall. Nightwing and HUNTRESS climb up onto the roof of the dangling trailer. They fight against the remaining Falsefacers, swinging off cables, trying desperately to keep their balance as the trailer swings to and fro due to the helicopter weaving inbetween buildings. It's like something out of an Errol Flynn movie, if Errol Flynn had helicopters.

NIGHTWING: (Italian, subtitled) Grab a cable!

Huntress does as Nightwing throws a Birdarang into a cable. The trailer, unsupported on one side, twists. Nightwing grabs onto the edge as the Falsefacers fall off.

NIGHTWING: It's raining men.

HUNTRESS: Hallelujah.

Nightwing pulls himself up onto the new top of the trailer as Huntress clings tightly to the cable.

HUNTRESS: How'd you know I spoke Italian?

NIGHTWING: I didn't. Educated guess.

HUNTRESS: But what if I didn't?

NIGHTWING: Then I'd have to catch you.

Suddenly, the trailer CLIPS a building. Nightwing is JOLTED off. He falls into the urban jungle, manages to grab onto a CLOTHESLINE. He swings around it like an acrobat on a bar and throws himself upwards, ascending to the rooftop of a building. Hopping from rooftop to rooftop, he pursues the trailer.

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Renard jerks his thumb up.

RENARD: Lift!

The helicopter struggles to gain altitude as Renard grabs a GRENADE LAUNCHER. He hangs out the side of the chopper and aims at Nightwing.

EXT. ROOFTOPS – EVENING

Nightwing lunges forward as Renard fires, blowing the **** out of the space six feet behind him. Nightwing keeps going, zig-zagging like a quarterback going for the endzone as explosions erupt all around him. Then, disaster strikes.

No more roof.

Nightwing puts on the speed anyway, running as fast as his legs can pump. He reaches the end and HURTLES HIMSELF INTO THE VOID...

Catching onto the side of the trailer. He quickly pulls himself up to the top, where Huntress helps him up.

Then a fresh hell.

They’re headed straight for a glass “bridge” between skyscrapers.

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Renard smiles beneath his mask.

RENARD: Do it.

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENIGN

Nightwing grabs Huntress in one arm and leaps off the backside of the trailer, grabbing onto the top with one hand. The front side hits the bridge and Nightwing shelters Huntress with his body as his hand is lacerated by glass. He climbs back onto the top, pulls a shard out of the back of his hand.

NIGHTWING: Now, if you'll excuse me...

He jumps up past her and grabs onto the cable. Huntress watches as he shimmeys up it.

HUNTRESS: Nice butt.

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Renard sees that his men have all been taken out.

RENARD: Radio for reinforcements. We're gonna need a lot more men.

Nightwing slams into him, tackling him against the wall.

NIGHTWING: For little ol' me? I'm touched.

Renard headbutts him and draws a huge COMBAT KNIFE. They fight.

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

A sudden turn sends Huntress over the side. She grabs hold to the edge... and sees that the mobile home is about to cross a building. She vaults onto the top as the side she was on scrapes against the building, kicking up sparks.

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

The fight rages on. Nightwing and Renard roll around on the floor, shifting this way and that from the helicopter's tight turns. Renard brings the knife towards Nightwing's eye.

RENARD: You're not ruining this for me, pajama-boy!

Nightwing knees him on the stomach and twists his wrist, causing the knife to drop to the floor. Renard brings his arm up, elbowing Nightwing in the throat, then twists him around to get an arm around Nightwing's neck.

RENARD: I'm gonna bring your head back on a platter!

NIGHTWING: I just don't see that happening.

He ROLLS HIMSELF OUT THE DOOR.

EXT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Nightwing holds onto a landing skid with one hand, Renard for the other. Renard is panicking. Who wouldn't?

NIGHTWING: I want you to send Black Mask a message for me. I want you to tell him to stay out of Bludhaven. This is where his reach exceeds his grasp.

RENARD: Don't let go!

NIGHTWING: Relax. It's not the fall that kills you... it's the sudden splash at the end!

He drops Renard into a passing ROOFTOP POOL

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Nightwing jumps back in.

NIGHTWING: (to Pilot) Put this thing on the ground!

PILOT: Sure, how's this!

He punches the magnetic control.

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

The trailer detaches from the junkyard magnet and is now only hanging on by one cable, which is quickly fraying. Huntress nearly falls off. As she jumps back inside the trailer...

HUNTRESS: What is he doing up there?

INT. HELICOPTER – EVENING

Nightwing looks at the controls. No way and no time to figure out how to undo what the Pilot did.

NIGHTWING: What am I doing up here?

He jumps back out the door.

EXT. MOBILE HOME – EVENING

With impressive acrobatics, Nightwing swings off the landing skid, flies past the cable, grabs hold of it, slides down and lands on the trailer just as the rope snaps. The mobile home flies like a cruise missile, HITTING a rooftop and sliding along it like a freight train, DEMOLISHING a pigeon coop and coming to a stop half-on, half-off the roof, teetering on the edge.

NIGHTWING: Huntress!

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) What?

Nightwing looks up. She's standing on the rooftop, holding the Box.

NIGHTWING: Oh. (beat) Fudge.

The trailer FALLS OFF THE ROOF.

In slow-motion, we see Nightwing riding the trailer down... seeing a COUPLE below, right at ground zero. Nightwing kicks off the trailer, skydiving downwards, outpacing it... he draws a de-cel line, trips it, throw it through a window and SWINGS, knocking the couple out of the way just before the trailer hits the ground with a tremendous explosion.

He looks up to the rooftop to see Huntress standing there, cape flaring in the wind, silhouetted against the moon. She disappears. Nightwing sighs.

NIGHTWING: We have got to stop meeting like that.


Next: Office Romance

 

[Zev]

INT. HOTEL – EVENING

Dick Grayson, now hurriedly changing into a formal suit, rushes down the stairs. Clancy is at the foot of them, waiting for him.

CLANCY: Good news, Dick. I got the scholarship

GRAYSON: That's great!

CLANCY: And tomorrow morning I'm flyin' to Stockholm to accept the Nobel Prize!

GRAYSON: Great!

CLANCY: In the nude.

GRAYSON: Even better!

He rushes out the door.

CLANCY: Didn't hear a bloody word. Men.

EXT. BLUDHAVEN ROAD – EVENING

Dick suffers through traffic. Touches a cut on his head that he took in the fight with (in both meanings of the word) Huntress.

BARBARA: (filtered) Hurts?

GRAYSON: No, used car. Hey, how'd you know I was...?

BARBARA: (filtered) Look to your right.

Grayson does. Sees...

BARBARA: (filtered) Smile at the nice traffic camera.

GRAYSON: Sometimes you really scare me.

BARBARA: (filtered) Good. So, done "winging" it for the night?

GRAYSON: Not my choice. Amy invited me to her place for dinner.

BARBARA: (filtered) That a cop thing?

GRAYSON: Not that I ever heard of. She says we should "get to know each other better" now that we're partners.

BARBARA: (filtered) And that means?

GRAYSON: That's what has me worried, Babs.

BARBARA: (filtered) What, think she has the hots for you?

GRAYSON: Well, yeah.

BARBARA: (filtered) Don't we think a lot of ourselves.

GRAYSON: She ain't a total dog in the looks department either...

BARBARA: (filtered) Oh really? Just remember we were partners first.

GRAYSON: I haven't forgot.

The way he says it, in contrast to the jocular prior conversation, is enough to give you whiplash.

EXT. AMY'S HOUSE – EVENING

A nice two-story house in the suburbs, two-car garage, backyard, da works. Grayson gets out of the car, holding a bouquet of flowers. He walks towards the door like a man walks to his execution.

GRAYSON: (muttering to himself) Shouldn't have gotten flowers, flowers were a mistake, don't throw them away she could be watching, oh this is so stupid...

He rings the doorbell. Amy answers.

AMY: Grayson, you dressed up?

GRAYSON: Well, yeah...

AMY: And flowers? That's sweet.

He hands them to her.

AMY: I'll put these in water.

GRAYSON: Amy... I'm not sure this is such a good idea.

AMY: But they'll wilt...

GRAYSON: Not the flowers, dinner.

AMY: You said that before.

GIRL: (O.S.) MOM!

Grayson looks past Amy. A young girl, EMMA, is waving around a coloring book while her little brother, JUSTIN, chases after her with a crayon.

EMMA: Justin's not coloring right!

AMY: Emma, what's Officer Grayson gonna think of you yelling?

GRAYSON: You have kids?

AMY: And a husband. I'm kinda old-fashioned that way.

JIM, a large stocky man in a cooking apron, waves at Grayson.

JIM: Hey Dick, I'm Jim. How do you like your steaks?

Grayson has a facepalm moment.

GRAYSON: Rare on the inside.

EXT. AMY'S HOUSE – BACKYARD – LATER

Jim works a PROPANE GRILL. Grayson sits at a picnic table, watching the children as they play on a swing set. Emma is pushing her brother, making him go higher and higher.

AMY: You like kids, Grayson?

GRAYSON: I don't dislike them.

AMY: Yeah, everybody likes other people's kids.

GRAYSON: In that case, I break from the trend and let you know that your children are horrible. You have my pity.

Amy laughs.

AMY: Thank you.

JIM: Get you another steak, Dick? More fries?

GRAYSON: Not even intravenously, Jim. I am stuffed.

AMY: The way you wolf down food, I'm not surprised.

GRAYSON: Never know when you're going to get fed again. Old habit.

AMY: Where'd you pick it up, a Chinese prison camp?

GRAYSON: No, summer camp. So Jim, what do you do?

JIM: Welding. I'm foreman on that new bank going up at Bayside Plaza.

GRAYSON: High iron, huh?

JIM: Yeah, you oughta come up. Let me show you the view. Unless you're afraid of heights.

Grayson allows himself a small smile.

GRAYSON: Not me. Well, better get home. I wanna be rested up for tomorrow. Thanks for a great dinner, guys.

AMY: Anytime, partner.

Cut to moments later. Grayson pulls away in his car as Amy and Jim watch him go.

JIM: Seems like a steady guy. Think he'll work out?

AMY: He's overeager, overchaged, and thinks he's a blue knight out to save the world.

JIM: Like another cop I happen to be married to?

AMY: The poor jerk.

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson puts away his Nightwing costume as Barbara laughs over the phone.

BARBARA: (filtered) This is too good!

GRAYSON: Laugh on your own time, Babs. I've gotta get to work.

BARBARA: (filtered) Work hard and maybe with your instincts... you'll make detective! Ha!

GRAYSON: Wait a minute... you don't have a traffic camera here, do you?

BARBARA: (filtered) If I did, would I tell you about it?

GRAYSON: Sca-ry. Talk to you tomorrow.

BARBARA: (filtered) Where’re you going?

GRAYSON: Sleuthing. See if I can get a feel for this Soames in civvies.

BARBARA: (filtered) Just make sure he’s the only one you’re trying to “get a feel on.”

INT. HOGAN'S ALLEY – NIGHT

Grayson walks into HOGAN'S ALLEY, a cop bar. The owner, HANK HOGAN, piles four mugs of ale onto a serving tray. A WAITRESS takes them to the center of the action, a table with SOAMES and three of his men are playing.

Grayson walks through the first level, consisting of a bar on one side and a series of booths opposite it. Waiters and waitresses hustle to and fro in front of and behind him. He climbs up a small flight of stairs onto the second level, a sort of indoor patio on which Soames is playing.

GRAYSON: Hey, Inspector Soames, isn't it?

SOAMES: Yeah. You're the kid that bull-rushed the station. (to men) One I told you about, remember? You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that.

GRAYSON: Name's Dick Grayson. How 'bout dealing me in?

The others laugh. Soames takes the cigar out of his mouth.

SOAMES: You want a spot in this game, you're gonna have to take it.

Grayson considers this for a moment, then grabs Soames by the collar, yanking him out of his seat and slamming him against a support beam.

SOAMES: Ho ho ho! You set your sights high, dontcha?

Grayson lets him go. Soames finishes his beer, takes off his coat. They walk down the stairs onto the lower level, where the patrons quickly make a hole.

SOAMES: You ready for this?

GRAYSON: Shut up and fight.

Soames swings. Grayson catches it, retailiates. Soames staggers back. That hit was harder than he expected. He goes to town. They trade blows until Grayson is a bloody mess. He falls to the floor. Soames helps him up.

SOAMES: You know how to handle yourself. I like that. C'mon, buy you a beer.

He helps Grayson limp back to the second level.

SOAMES: Sit down, pull up a chair. Not in that order.

PLAYER: Duds, table's full up.

Soames kicks him down.

SOAMES: Not anymore.

Soames and Grayson sit down. The barmaid brings Grayson a tablecloth. He wipes at his bloody face with it. Soames deals.

GRAYSON: Say, you ever met someone named Boss Zucko?

SOAMES: No, can’t say that I have. Why?

GRAYSON: Just wonderin’.

SOAMES: So, tell me Grayson, where do you see yourself in five years?

GRAYSON: Tell you what. Back in high school, always hated being asked "where I saw myself in five years." I'm one of those "whatever will be, will be" types.

SOAMES: Cruising along, huh? Nomadic soul.

They start playing.

GRAYSON: It's in the blood. Parents were circus folk.

SOAMES: Everyone's got a story, eh? But seriously, you gonna be a patrol puke all your life?

GRAYSON: Kinda hoping to make detective someday.

SOAMES: Ambitious.

GRAYSON: Thanks.

SOAMES: How exactly you gonna go about doing that?

GRAYSON: I don't really know... wait for an opportunity to come along, I guess. A big bust, something...

SOAMES: No, no, you gotta think five steps ahead. Get in the game. Pick something on the fast track. Vice, forensics, narcotics... you ever think of being a narc cop?

GRAYSON: Not really.

SOAMES: Best job in the world for a young go-getter like you. You know how to recognize a ‘citer?

He pronounces it like cider.

GRAYSON: ‘Citer?

SOAMES: New drug. Called Velocity-9. Accelerates your brain, gives you a rush. That is if your cerebellum doesn’t blow out. They say the really high-end stuff can make you move like the wind. This is piss thought, just gives you a trip.

He drops a small SNUFF BOX into the pot.

GRAYSON: What’s in there?

SOAMES: What do you think? Fold.

Everyone folds. Soames shoves the snuff box to Grayson. Grayson opens it. Inside is a pill.

GRAYSON: No. No way.

SOAMES: This isn’t a test. Take the pill.

GRAYSON: I ain’t taking that.

SOAMES: What, don’t you trust us?

GRAYSON: I don’t trust that.

SOAMES: It’s safe. This is the street. You do what it takes to survive on the street. And right now you need to take the pill.

GRAYSON: They are going to do a piss test and I am going to get fired.

SOAMES: We don’t have a piss test for three weeks. Besides, Velocity-9 don’t show up on the tests, not yet. Pretty soon every doper, gangbanger, and duster in the Burroughs is gonna be on this stuff, you need to know how to recognize them. Take the pill.

Grayson picks up the pill. Stares at it. Pops it.

His pupils dilate. He blinks. When he opens his eyes...

REVERSE ANGLE shows us a ceiling. We're staring straight up. Suddenly, a young BATGIRL (Barbara Gordon) Terry Gilliams into frame. Red hair hangs down from behind her cowl.

BATGIRL: Wake up, sleepyhead.

INT. APARTMENT – FLASHBACK

Wide angle. An apartment in Gotham City (bizarrely, it has characteristics of both Grayson’s present-day apartment and the Batcave). Barbara lies on her stomach, naked except for the yellow "Batgirl" cowl and cape wrapped around her in a PG-13 kind of way. She's laid down next to Robin (a somewhat younger Dick Grayson), who has taken off his cape and tunic, leaving him in a green leotard, and is resting against the headboard of his bed.

ROBIN: I'm awake, I'm awake... (notices Batgirl) the wake-up call here is excellent.

BATGIRL: Well, Boy Wonder, you could do worse than this place. Nice curtains, room service, honesty bar...

She nods to an open window, which presumably she entered through.

BATGIRL: Security leaves a little something to be desired.

ROBIN: I left it unlocked.

BATGIRL: Sure you did. So, Dick Grayson, finally getting his own place...

Their conversations begin to overlap in a "married couple" sort of way.

ROBIN: It doesn't change anything.

BATGIRL: Moving out of stately Wayne Manor and into stately Waldorf Astoria.

ROBIN: I said it doesn't change anything. I'm still one-half of the dynamic duo...

BATGIRL: Really should be dynamic trio...

ROBIN: Scourge of darkest evil...

BATGIRL: Wearer of short-pants...

ROBIN: Crusader against the darkness...

BATGIRL: In short-pants...

ROBIN: Defender of truth, justice, and...

BATGIRL: Short-pants?

ROBIN: I've got to get a new costume.

BATGIRL: You're still going to go on patrol, right?

ROBIN: Of course I am. Me and Bruce...

BATGIRL: Bruce and I...

ROBIN: Excuse me, miss librarian, some of us use slang.

BATGIRL: Excuse me, mister slang, some of us are wrong.

ROBIN: As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, we're a team. Batman and Robin...

BATGIRL: And Batgirl...

ROBIN: (nodding) And Batgirl. Me and him, we're a team. We're not going to break apart. You and me, we're a team too.

BATGIRL: Just a team?

ROBIN: The point is that nothing can come between us.

Suddenly a GLOVED HAND grabs Robin by the throat and lifts him up. We almost expect it to be Batman, but as Robin is pulled into a weird sort of kaleidoscopic NULL-SPACE, he finds himself face-to-face with a STRANGE FIGURE in a cloak. As he's yanked away from Barbara, he pulls a Richard Linklater and smoothly morphs like quicksilver into PRESENT-DAY GRAYSON.

GRAYSON: Wha? Who?

The figure pulls back its hood, revealing WALLY WEST.

WALLY: You stupid bastard! I've been looking all over for you!

He sets Grayson down and points at something off-screen.

WALLY: I need your help to get out of here. Somehow you've managed to intersect with the Speed Force, which is a spectacularly risky move by the way (I approve), so you're the only one that can...

He stops.

WALLY: You have no idea who I am, do you?

He rips open Grayson's shirt (tearing off a BUTTON in the process).

WALLY: No scars. Goddamnit, I hate time travel!

He starts walking away. Pauses a moment, at war with himself. Then turns around.

WALLY: Listen to me very carefully, because this is vitally important. No matter what happens, whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances...

INT. SUBWAY TRAIN – NIGHT

Grayson jolts awake. A TRANSIT COP is shaking him.

TRANSIT COP: End of the line, bub. This is where you get off.

Grayson gives the cop a slightly paranoid look, then shakes it off. He stands up, a little wobbly, and walks off the subway train.

EXT. CAR – NIGHT

Clancy drives, Grayson in the front seat. He runs a hand over his shirt. A button’s been ripped off. He turns to Clancy.

GRAYSON: Thanks for coming to pick me up. Normally I’d hoof it...

CLANCY: Brave, but stupid...

GRAYSON: Yeah, that’s what she’d’ve said.

CLANCY: Huh?

GRAYSON: Nothing.

CLANCY: It’s no trouble ‘t all. Besides, I owe you. I got that scholarship from Waynetech, just like you predicted.

GRAYSON: That’s great! Where’re you applying for premed?

CLANCY: I was thinking Hudson.

GRAYSON: Good school. Or so I’ve heard.

Clancy parks.

CLANCY: So, how’s a nice boy like you end up halfway across town in the middle of the night?

GRAYSON: Little prank the guys played on me.

CLANCY: The guys... your fellow boys in blue?

GRAYSON: Yup.

CLANCY: Why would you want to have anything to do with those villains?

GRAYSON: I dunno...

CLANCY: Because you think you can make a difference?

GRAYSON: Well...

CLANCY: My idiotic white knight...

She rests a hand on his. A little unsure, Grayson rubs the top of her hand with his thumb.

INT. HOTEL – NIGHT

Clancy helps Grayson up the stairs. He trips and she catches him, rights himself, lingers a bit before they resume the climb.

CLANCY: How’d you know I’d get that scholarship?

GRAYSON: I didn’t know, I was... confident.

She goes to his door, uses the master key.

CLANCY: You have more faith in me than I have in m’self. It makes a girl wonder... where’s all that faith come from?

GRAYSON: Uh...

The door swings open.

CLANCY: You and me, Mr. Grayson... we could be more than just tenant and landlady, couldn’t we?

GRAYSON: (direct approach) ...there’s someone else.

Clancy looks inside. Sees a photo of Dick and Barbara on the wall. Taken not long after the flashback, from the looks of it. Both in swimwear, running on the beach. Good memories.

CLANCY: Oh... sorry ta go all mooshy on ya...

GRAYSON: It’s no... There’s this person... this thing inside me, that puts this distance between... people get close to me, they get hurt. I’m not what you’re looking for.

CLANCY: (not unkindly) Yeah, I get that. I hope you two are happy together.

She exits, closing the door behind her. Grayson looks at the photograph.

GRAYSON: Maybe.


Next: Unsafe

 

[Zev]

EXT. COFFEE SHOP – THE NEXT DAY

Grayson walks out with donuts, passing an OLD LADY stapling Brother Blood fliers on a bulletin board. Two cop cars are parked in front, one in a handicapped spot, the other at the curb.

LARKS and SHUMACHER are the two other cops, smoking cigarettes with eerie simultaneity. Larks has stylish, slicked-back hair; he looks and acts very smooth. Lean and gangly Shoemaker is a ruggedly handsome All-American jock type, a giant. Both are dangerous.

GRAYSON: Who's got sprinkles?

SHUMACHER: I'm sprinkles.

AMY: Really, Shumacher? I'm learning something new about you.

SCHUMACHER: Funny, Rohrbach. Ain't she funny, Larks?

LARKS: Regular Andy Rooney.

SCHUMACHER: So, how long you gonna ride with this policeperson, Grayson?

GRAYSON: What d'you mean, guys?

LARKS: Most guys wanna partner with a guy, rookie.

GRAYSON: I'd rather go through a door with Amy than either of you.

Amy claps him on the chest.

AMY: That's sweet, partner, but they're just riding you.

LARKS: Yeah, chill out Grayson.

A call comes over the radio.

DISPATCH: (filtered) Units in vicinity of McCabin and Pequod. Armed robbery in progress, possible hostage situation at Exeter Locksmith.

LARKS: That's ours, we gotta roll.

Grayson watches as they pile in to the car parked in the handicapped space, something about the incident ringing an alarm in his brain...

GRAYSON: We're moving on this too.

He climbs into the car.

AMY: Huh? McBain Avenue is out of our patrol area.

GRAYSON: It's out of Larks' too. That's why we have to get there first.

Amy gets it. She starts the car.

AMY: Larks and Shumacher, the way they jackrabbited out of here...

GRAYSON: Think they're taking orders from Blockbuster?

AMY: Scuttlebutt is that they're runners for Black Mask's gang.

GRAYSON: Fantastic! I feel like I need a flowchart to keep track of this city!

INT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

A museum of venerable old safes of various sizes, including a large CENTERPIECE SAFE salvaged from a decommissioned cruise ship. The front of the store is dominated by rows of new, top-of-the-line safes. Huntress stands behind the counter, underneath a wall of keys, a crossbow held on the LOCKSMITH, who is hard at work trying to open the Box. Huntress feels the need to justify herself:

HUNTRESS: This wouldn't be necessary if you hadn't tripped the alarm.

LOCKSMITH: What was I supposed to do? You came in here wearing a mask!

HUNTRESS: I have my reasons. How long?

LOCKSMITH: Don't rush me! I try to open this without disabling the booby traps, it could blow up in my face!

HUNTRESS: That's a chance I'm willing to take.

EXT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

A cop car pulls up.

INT. COP CAR – DAY

Amy reaches into the back for the PUMP-ACTION SHOTGUN.

AMY: Good, we beat Larks here. I'll take the pump, you stay...

Grayson's not there anymore. Through the windshield, she sees him, gunbelt in hand, approaching the storefront.

GRAYSON: (to Amy) Hold the cowboys off, I'll bring her in nice and peaceful.

AMY: "Her"?

Before her stunned eyes, he sets the gunbelt down and walks into the store.

AMY: Oh, you stupid son of a *****...

INT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

Grayson walks inside, hands on his head. Huntress has the crossbow aimed square at his heart, right over the Locksmith's head. Our hero's got two objectives: Make sure nobody dies and go to bed with Huntress. In that order.

HUNTRESS: What, now they're sending in male strippers? Interesting hostage negotiation tactic.

GRAYSON: I'm not a stripper, I'm a cop.

HUNTRESS: If you don't shut up you're a dead man. Down on your knees.

Grayson does as he's told. Huntress draws the shades, blocking the cops' view from the outside.

GRAYSON: If I were you, I'd stay away from the window, they have a pretty clear shot on you...

Huntress walks around him in a wide circle, kicks him between the shoulderblades, sending him to all fours.

HUNTRESS: I told you to shut up.

Obviously, she had a bolt loaded in the crossbow. Now she presses the arrowhead on that bow into the back of Grayson's neck, just hard enough to draw blood. With her other hand she pats him down.

GRAYSON: (as she feels him out) That'd be a dangerous place to keep a gun...

HUNTRESS: Get up.

Grayson does, hands still on his head.

HUNTRESS: Foot on the counter, like you were tying your shoe. Do it now.

He does.

HUNTRESS: Roll up your pantleg.

GRAYSON: I don't carry an ankle holster.

HUNTRESS: Let's pretend you do.

He pulls up his pantleg. Nothing but black dress sock.

HUNTRESS: Other leg now, hero.

He repeats the process with his other leg.

GRAYSON: Satisfied?

Moving like lightning, she PISTOL-WHIPS his foot. Damn near breaks his ankle. He crumbles to the ground in pain.

HUNTRESS: Now I am. What do you want, hero?

GRAYSON: I want you to get out of this alive.

HUNTRESS: Well, that makes you chief cook and bottlewasher in a one-man society.

GRAYSON: You counting yourself in?

HUNTRESS: Do I look like a man?

Just for the record, that's the furthest thing from what she looks like.

GRAYSON: Is that a trick question?

She presses the arrowhead into the hollow of his throat.

HUNTRESS: The only phallic object I'd be thinking about if I were you would be this here arrow.

GRAYSON: I am. I'm thinking it's a long-range weapon and you really shouldn't be getting that close with it. I could do something like this.

In the blink of an eye, he's holding the crossbow. The hand is quicker than the eye. Huntress is flabbergasted.

HUNTRESS: How the hell did you...

GRAYSON: But! That would be rude.

He hands the crossbow back to her. She snatches it away and comically backs way back. The Locksmith, seeing the exchange, slaps his forehead.

HUNTRESS: (to Locksmith) Back to work! (to Grayson) Why'd you give it back!? (beat) Talk, right now! Unanswered questions give me a real itchy trigger finger.

GRAYSON: With or without that crossbow, you're not going to let yourself be taken alive. I want to show you a better way. All you have to do is listen for five minutes.

HUNTRESS: Maybe I could do that. Or maybe I could kill you right now because you're too dangerous to live. What do you think of that?

INT. SECOND COP CAR – DAY

Larks and Schumacher have pulled up to the scene.

LARKS: What do you think?

SCHUMACHER: No witnesses. Gotta make it look good.

LARKS: You know, these vigilantes, no one knows what they might be carrying... could be explosives...

SCHUMACHER: Grenade?

LARKS: Hell yeah grenade!

SCHUMACHER: Why are you always pushing grenades?

LARKS: Because they always work. Hey, you on board with this or not? Not getting cold feet on me, are ya?

SCHUMACHER: They'll probably dock us with excessive force. Again. (a beat, then) No witnesses.

LARKS: And if Rohrbach gets in the way?

SCHUMACHER: That'd be a real pity. I'll send flowers to her funeral.

INT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

GRAYSON: Look, I can promise you a way to get out of here safe, alive, and free. Just give me five minutes to talk to you in private.

HUNTRESS: And let my new sidekick get away? Don't think so. (to Locksmith) Say, how's it coming with the lock?

LOCKSMITH: Five more minutes I'll have it open.

GRAYSON: You've got five minutes to kill (poor choice of words, I apologize), why not hear me out? We'll just step into the backroom...

HUNTRESS: And let Mr. Innocent Bystander here slip away? Thanks but no thanks.

Grayson takes out his handcuffs.

GRAYSON: You can cuff him to the chair.

LOCKSMITH: This is tough on crime? This is my tax dollars at work?

HUNTRESS AND GRAYSON: (in unison) Shut up.

GRAYSON: What have you got to lose?

HUNTRESS: Try anything and you both die.

GRAYSON: Why him? He's innocent.

HUNTRESS: Nobody's innocent.

EXT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

Larks and Schumacher approach Amy.

LARKS: I thought I told you we were taking this, Rohrbach.

AMY: Armed suspect, exact location unknown. That's an automatic back-up call.

LARKS: Schumacher and I are going in. You stay with your unit.

AMY: One, I outrank both of you, Patrolman Larks. Two, my partner's in there.

LARKS: What's that got to do with anything?

AMY: You're going in hot. I don't want you accidentally shooting Grayson?

SCHUMACHER: Larks and me are twenty-year vets. We won't shoot your pretty boy, Sarge.

Amy ka-chunks her shotgun.

AMY: He's not the only one I'm worried about. It's dark and scary in there, guys. Anybody could catch a round in the back.

INT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

Huntress has pulled Grayson to the back of the store. The crossbow is aimed at his face.

HUNTRESS: Talk and talk quick.

GRAYSON: Any minute now, dirty cops working for Black Mask are gonna bust in here and take you out. You surrender, I can protect you.

HUNTRESS: And what's to stop them from killing me in lock-up?

GRAYSON: Me. As soon as the day shift starts to leave, I'll bust you out.

HUNTRESS: How?

GRAYSON: I'll just walk you out of there.

HUNTRESS: Yeah, right.

GRAYSON: I give you my word.

HUNTRESS: What good is that?

GRAYSON: There's only one promise I made that I haven't kept. And that one I'm working on.

HUNTRESS: What was it?

GRAYSON: Not important right now...

HUNTRESS: What. Was. It?

GRAYSON: ...to bring my parents' killer to justice.

Huntress lowers her crossbow infinitesimally.

HUNTRESS: If you're lying to me about your parents...

GRAYSON: I wouldn't do something like that.

HUNTRESS: Sure you wouldn't.

She steps closer to him.

HUNTRESS: Seems like everyone who's anyone has a man inside the police department these days.

She slowly, sensually rubs his badge with the scruff of her glove, "polishing" it.

HUNTRESS: I could use a man inside.

GRAYSON: Getting this close after I showed you how fast I can move... you must be either very trusting or very foolish.

HUNTRESS: I'm neither. I just need to be this close so you can give me something to prove you're going to keep your word.

GRAYSON: I can't think of any way to prove that you can trust me.

HUNTRESS: I've got a few ideas...

She reaches for him. He pulls back a little.

HUNTRESS: You don't trust me, do you?

GRAYSON: Maybe not. But I do trust the goodness inside you.

HUNTRESS: Prove it.

GRAYSON: How?

HUNTRESS: Kiss me.

GRAYSON: What?

EXT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

The three cops have gathered around a sidedoor, ready to breach. Larks pulls a HAND GRENADE out of his pocket...

INT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

HUNTRESS: Kiss me. If you're trying to trick me, I'll know.

GRAYSON: How? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

HUNTRESS: Believe me, it works. A man can't lie when he's being intimate. Not to me, anyway.

GRAYSON: I do this, you surrender?

HUNTRESS: If I'm convinced that you're not setting me up.

GRAYSON: And if you're not convinced?

HUNTRESS: Well, then at least you get a kiss before dying.

GRAYSON: Looks like I don't have much choice.

He moves in for a kiss. Huntress presses the arrowhead under his jaw.

HUNTRESS: Careful. You try anything, I pull the trigger.

Grayson defiantly grabs her arm by the elbow, pulls the crossbow lower.

GRAYSON: You're just gonna have to trust me.

He kisses her. After a few moments, she wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him in tighter. She takes the crossbow out from between their bodies and wraps the arm holding it around his back, pressing his body to hers. He backs her against the centerpiece safe, still passionately kissing her. Slowly, painfully, he pulls away. Looks deep into her eyes.

GRAYSON: Do you trust me?

THE COPS bust down the door. Huntress reacts instinctively, takes a shot.

GRAYSON: No!

Schumacher is hit in the shoulder, goes down. Larks throws the grenade as Amy pulls Schumacher out.

GRAYSON: Get DOWN!

He pulls Huntress into the large safe as the grenade goes off, blowing out every window in the store.

As the smoke clears, we see Larks and Amy entering, guns drawn.

GRAYSON: (O.S.) Suspect in custody! Holster your weapons!

AMY: You heard him. Guns down.

Larks looks at her. Grayson steps out of the swirling smoke, dragging a handcuffed Huntress behind him.

GRAYSON: Suspect in custody. Don't shoot.

EXT. LOCKSMITH SHOP – DAY

Grayson mops at his forehead with a handkerchef as, in the background, Huntress is searched for weapons against Larks and Schumacher's car. She looks at Grayson and mouths "I trust you" before she's shoved into the backseat.

GRAYSON: Let's follow them. Make sure they don't pull anything on the way to the station.

AMY: My thoughts exactly.

As they climb into the car...

AMY: Looked to me like you two had a little lip action going.

GRAYSON: Looked to me like somebody threw a grenade at me.

INT. SECOND COP CAR – DAY

Huntress sits in the back, handcuffed, in a fugue state.

LARKS: We can't unmask her. League forced the bill through. It would violate her civil rights.

SCHUMACHER: Woman doesn't dress like that unless she likes violation.

HUNTRESS: Just having other people see you guys after I'm done with you two will be considered a crime against humanity. Wait for it. You'll be impressed.


Next: Prison Break

 

[Zev]

EXT. PRECINCT – DUSK

Grayson, inside a telephone booth, watches the sun go down. He's on a phone call with Barbara.

GRAYSON: I need you to, at my signal, shut down the power at the police station.

BARBARA: (filtered) No-brainer. You could have gotten your senior partner to do this. He's got a half dozen Crays in his basement.

GRAYSON: I'd rather not ask him, okay?

BARBARA: (filtered) Things not going well downriver?

GRAYSON: Huntress may be the break I need here.

BARBARA: (filtered) Is that all she is?

GRAYSON: She's a friend... I think. I don't know, it's complicated.

BARBARA: (filtered) When isn't it?

GRAYSON: Metropolis.

He slaps his forehead. Didn't mean to dredge that up.

BARBARA: (filtered) Metropolis was a long time ago.

GRAYSON: I know. (beat) You know I love you, right?

The phone is dead silent.

GRAYSON: (filtered) I know that you and me... Batgirl and Robin... it was kinda like having a crush on your fifth-grade teacher. Everything she says and does you interpret as a sign that she's madly in love with you, but it's always a one-sided thing! But I'm a man now and I have to say something you might not want to hear. I love you, Babs... as a friend, as a partner... even as a big sister, if that's what you want. But I'd like to believe I could love you as a...

The line goes dead. Dial tone. Grayson looks at the phone for a moment, incalculably hurt. He slams the phone handset against the phone until it vomits up coins.

GRAYSON: I'll always love you.

INT. PRECINCT – DUSK

Grayson walks through the station, a pair of sunglasses hanging from his shirt pocket.

INT. PRECINCT – ELSEWHERE – DUSK

Schumacher scratches at the bandage on his shoulder as Larks screws a silencer onto his gun.

LARKS: Let's make the ***** bleed.

INT. PRECINCT – DUSK

Grayson "accidentally" bumps into Chief Redhorn. In SUPER-SLOW-MOTION, we see his hand dip in and out of Redhorn's pocket.

GRAYSON: 'Scuse me, sir.

He walks away a few steps, then taps a button on his wrist watch. Nothing happens.

GRAYSON: (under his breath) C'mon Babs, don't let me down...

And suddenly the LIGHTS go out.

INT. PRECINCT – RESTRICTED AREA – NIGHT

The metahuman holding area is empty except for Huntress, who sits in her cell. The police station goes dead just as the sun finishes setting. Light from a streetlamp outside streams in the barred window, revealing Larks and Schumacher in front of the cell.

LARKS: Evening, gorgeous.

INT. PRECINCT – NIGHT

Pitch black. Grayson's POV. We literally almost can't see our hand in front of us. Then we put on our SUNGLASSES, the inside lenses show Starlite-green NIGHTVISION of the area.

Normal angle. Now with the same nightvision Grayson possesses, we watch him walk casually through the station. He sidesteps a flashlight beam, ducks under a cop's arm. Presses his PILFERED KEY into a lock and enters the restricted area.

INT. PRECINCT – ELSEWHERE – NIGHT

Amy runs into Redhorn.

AMY: 'Nuther brown-out?

Redhorn sees LIGHTS in the neighboring building.

REDHORN: I don't think so.

He turns to Amy.

REDHORN: You have work to do?

AMY: Yes sir...

REDHORN: Then get to it.

INT. PRECINCT – RESTRICTED AREA – NIGHT

Larks tosses Huntress a bedsheet noose.

SCHUMACHER: Because we're feeling generous, we're giving you a chance to use that... or else we have some fun with you first.

HUNTRESS: So commit suicide or you rape me?

LARKS: Oh we're going to rape you either way. As it turns out, both Schumacher and I are necrophiliacs.

SCHUMACHER: What are the odds, huh?

HUNTRESS: Hey, remember what I said earlier about hurting you?

LARKS: Yeah, vaguely...

HUNTRESS: You really should've paid attention.

Lightning-fast, she throws the noose between the bars like a lasso, wrapping it around Larks' neck. She tugs him forward with a strong jerk, yanking his head through the bars. He SCREAMS in pain as she keeps pulling, the noose now caught on the bars, STRANGLING him.

HUNTRESS: (to Schumacher) Open the goddamn door or you're going to find yourself a lot more attracted to your friend here.

SCHUMACHER: (drawing gun) Or I could just shoot you.

HUNTRESS: Knew I forgot something...

Grayson steps out of the shadows behind Schumacher, swinging a NIGHTSTICK with all his strength. There's a dull thwack as it hits Schumacher, who appears entirely unaffected. He turns around.

SCHUMACHER: Hey, I know you! You're Colonel Sanders!

He collapses. Grayson unlocks the cell door. Huntress slides it open, knocking Larks unconscious where the bars intersect.

HUNTRESS: Sorry about kissing you those two times.

GRAYSON: Two...

She kisses him again, backing him against the opposite cell doors, hands working their way up the bars.

HUNTRESS: You came back for me.

GRAYSON: I always keep my promises to a lady.

The EMERGENCY LIGHTING comes up. As does the ALARM SYSTEM.

GRAYSON: Damnit...

HUNTRESS: Nice try, boy. Get in the cell, I'll say I knocked you out...

GRAYSON: Either both of us are walking out of here or neither of us.

HUNTRESS: Your loyalty's touching, but I don't even know you!

GRAYSON: Don't you?

Grayson begins unbuttoning his uniform.

HUNTRESS: Are you SURE you're not a male stripper?

He pulls it open, revealing the Nightwing costume he's wearing underneath.

HUNTRESS: Oh my god...

GRAYSON: I told you, I'm one of the good guys.

Slowly she makes a hand gesture as if she were picking up the phone. With her thumb and pinky she puts the imaginary headset to her mouth.

HUNTRESS: Hello mom. I've met a guy. I think I'm in love.

Grayson puts on his mask. NIGHTVISION EYEGUARDS slide into place on it.

NIGHTWING: Oh, you're just saying that because I engineered a jail break for you.

HUNTRESS: No, we should hook up sometime. We both have similar interests, great fashion sense...

NIGHTWING: Tell you what. If we're still alive tomorrow, I'll buy you a beer.

HUNTRESS: I'd like that. Listen, we need to get to the evidence room.

NIGHTWING: Are you kidding? In five minutes this place is going to be swarming with cops from all over the city.

HUNTRESS: The Box is there.

NIGHTWING: What's so important about that damn box anyway!?

HUNTRESS: Trust me. It's the stuff dreams are made of.

NIGHTWING: Alright, fine. But then we ghost.

HUNTRESS: Lead on, MacDuff.

INT. PRECINCT – NIGHT

Huntress and Nightwing power-walk out of the restricted area, barely illuminated by the dim light provided by the emergency generator.

They run across a group of cops. Hands and feet flash out like knives. The cops go down.

HUNTRESS: Hope you don't mind doing this to your co-workers.

NIGHTWING: Are you kidding? That guy owes me money.

They come to a door.

NIGHTWING: Hold on...

HUNTRESS: Why, what's through there?

NIGHTWING: Tactical division. SWAT guys.

HUNTRESS: ****.

NIGHTWING: Only way to the evidence room. You ready?

HUNTRESS: I was born ready.

Nightwing kicks in the door.

INT. PRECINCT – TACTICAL DIVISION – NIGHT

Nightwing and Huntress walk in. FORTY ROUGH AND TUMBLE SWAT TEAM MEMBERS IN CIVILIAN CLOTHES see them.

NIGHTWING: Hey fellas, don't mind us, just passing through, we got separated from the tour group, see...

The Swats stand, drawing nightsticks.

HUNTRESS: Way to defuse the situation.

NIGHTWING: Like you could've done better.

HUNTRESS: I was going to streak 'em.

NIGHTWING: (concedes the point) Might've worked.

He quick-draws his escrima sticks and tosses them through her, then intercepts the first of the charging Swats. Kicks him in the stomach, knocking him back onto a desk and leaving his nightstick hanging in mid-air. Nightwing plucks it from the air and goes to work, using it like Zorro with a rapier, deflecting blows from three attackers at once. He's worked back; they're trying to wall him in. He jumps onto a SWIVELLING OFFICE CHAIR and spins around on it, knocking their nightsticks out of their hands with one smooth move.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) 'Wing!

Nightwing somersaults over them and kicks them backwards as he lands on his hands, continuing the move into a forward handspring. He hits the ground running and throws the nightstick end-over-end into the mob that threatens to overwhelm Huntress, taking out four men with a ricocheting shot. Before Huntress has time to register his expertise, Nightwing is beside her, grabbing her hand and pulling her up onto the DESKS. They run across the desktops, dancing between the groping masses underneath like Fred and Ginger.

They reach the opposite end of the room and dash out the door into the hallway. Nightwing grabs a FIREHOSE from the wall and turns it on full blast, sending a stream of water back into the squad room. The Swats are driven back, slipping around and tripping over each other. When they're sufficiently impeded, Nightwing drops the hose and hurries on.

NIGHTWING: They're all washed-up.

HUNTRESS: The puns, they're not gonna be a thing with you, are they?

NIGHTWING: You don't like puns?

HUNTRESS: They're the lowest form of humor.

NIGHTWING: Thought that was sarcasm.

HUNTRESS: (sarcastic) I'm sure.

INT. PRECINCT – EVIDENCE ROOM – NIGHT

Nightwing and Huntress run in, shutting the door behind them. Through the door's window, we see the soaked Swats running by, unaware that our heroes are hiding in the room.

NIGHTWING: (sotto) You know, there should be a word for people who use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.

HUNTRESS: (sotto) There is: sarcastic.

All the Swats have passed by. Nightwing and Huntress stand, looking through the items. Huntress puts on a rosary with a GOLD CRUCIFIX, kisses it before dropping it to dangle between her breasts.

NIGHTWING: You Catholic?

HUNTRESS: Only on Sundays. You see where the Box is?

AMY, carrying the Box, presses a GUN against Nightwing's head. The following happens very quickly.

AMY: Don't move.

NIGHTWING: Amy, what are you doing here?

AMY: How do you know my name?

Huntress slowly inches towards something.

AMY: Take off the mask.

NIGHTWING: And with the Box. Did you come down here to defend it? How did you know we were gonna try to steal it?

AMY: Lose the mask, last chance!

He turns to face her.

NIGHTWING: Unless you were trying to take it yourself.

AMY: I said...

She reaches up and tears the mask off. Reacts to Dick Grayson's face.

AMY: Oh my God...

While she's distracted, Huntress snatches up her CROSSBOW from where it's stored, quick-loads it, and FIRES a bolt into Amy's chest. Amy goes down hard. Grayson jumps down to check her pulse.

GRAYSON: Are you mental!? You just killed a cop!

Huntress picks up the Box.

HUNTRESS: She's not dead. It's a knock-out bolt. Minimum penetration, arrowhead coated with anesthesia. She'll wake up in a few hours with nothing more than a headache.

Grayson puts back on his mask as Huntress gathers the rest of her possessions.

NIGHTWING: And what do you think is going to happen to me when she wakes up?

HUNTRESS: Not my problem. C'mon, let's get moving. I'd hate to have to leave you here after everything you've done for me.

EXT. PRECINCT – NIGHT

Nightwing and Huntress watch police cars gather at the stricken station from a nearby rooftop.

HUNTRESS: Like throwing a rock at a beehive. Ha.

NIGHTWING: That was uncalled for back there. It wasn't necessary!

HUNTRESS: Would you grow a pair? Honestly, you're such a woman...

NIGHTWING: Give me the Box.

Huntress draws the crossbow on him.

HUNTRESS: I don't think so.

NIGHTWING: I found you once, I can do it again. And you've got to sleep sometime.

HUNTRESS: I'll keep it under my pillow then.

NIGHTWING: I'll still have ways of getting to it.

HUNTRESS: I'll bet.

NIGHTWING: Hey, I thought we were on the same side. How about extending me a little professional courtesy?

HUNTRESS: Like what, a headstart?

NIGHTWING: I'm offering you my help here.

HUNTRESS: Don't want it. Blow.

NIGHTWING: Fine. I just notice you don't have a place to stay. I could put you up where they won't find you.

Huntress lowers the crossbow.

HUNTRESS: I'm listening.

EXT. BACKALLEY – NIGHT

Huntress looks around.

HUNTRESS: This? This is your secret headquarters?

NIGHTWING: You were expecting maybe the Fortress of Solitude?

He jumps up, kicks off the wall, swings off the fire escape and enters his apartment through the window.

NIGHTWING: Hold on, I'll throw you down a rope...

Huntress duplicates his action, landing behind him with a little "ta-da!" motion.

NIGHTWING: Show-off.

HUNTRESS: Look who's talking.

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson, still in costume but stripped to the waist, splashes water on his face. Huntress sits crosslegged on the bed, staring at the Box, as she takes off her cape and sets it on the bedpost.

GRAYSON: If this isn't Gwyneth Paltrow's head, I'm going to be really disappointed...

HUNTRESS: So, think you can get it open?

GRAYSON: I've had some experience with this kind of thing.

Holding a small packet of lockpicks, he sits down across from her, the Box in between them. He goes to work on the lock.

GRAYSON: So, what do you think's in here?

HUNTRESS: My father kept records on every dirty cop, every under-the-table deal, everything, all his dealings. I get my hands on those, I can bring the entire Bludhaven mob down.

GRAYSON: Your father must've been an important man.

HUNTRESS: That's one way to put it. He was Franco Bertinelli. He was old-school Mafia, back when honor and family meant something.

GRAYSON: I knew old-school Mafia. Trust me, that Godfather crap was anything but...

HUNTRESS: (sharply) You don’t know my father! (beat) Contents of this Box can lead us to those records. He always said it would take blood, sweat, and tears to get his money away from him. This definitely qualifies.

GRAYSON: How do you know?

HUNTRESS: I have a reliable source.

GRAYSON: Who?

HUNTRESS: Batman.

****ing TIGHT on Grayson's face. She just blew his mind. He tries to conceal his reaction, his sense of betrayal, and Huntress is so focused on the Box (which, from the steady series of clicks, Grayson is steadily unlocking) that she doesn't notice.

GRAYSON: Batman, huh? Thought he was just an urban legend.

HUNTRESS: He's not. I do this for him, I get into the club.

GRAYSON: (low) You say that like it's a reward...

CLICK! The Box unlocks... and EXPLODES!

HUNTRESS: No!

Grayson... wipes some black paint from his face.

GRAYSON: Paint bomb. Someone's got a sick sense of humor.

He opens the Box, but doesn't look inside it yet.

GRAYSON: See? Harmless. No reason to be worried about your precious dowry.

HUNTRESS: I was worried about you, idiot.

GRAYSON: I can take care of...

He looks inside the Box.

GRAYSON: Oh God...

Huntress looks inside as well, tears rimming her eyes.

HUNTRESS: It's alright... it's just...

She reaches in and takes out a JAR containing a perfectly-preserved HUMAN HAND.

HUNTRESS: My dad.

Grayson gently takes the jar from her and puts it back in the Box, next to a smaller jar containing an EYEBALL. Those are the only contents. He closes the Box and sets it on the ground. Huntress is crying, deep racking sobs that she's been holding in a long time. Grayson embraces her, rubbing her back supportively.

GRAYSON: It's alright... it's going to be alright.

HUNTRESS: Don't touch me...

GRAYSON: Shh... shh... it's okay.

INT. APARTMENT – LATER

Huntress has laid down on the bed. Grayson tries to wipe some of the paint off himself with a towel.

GRAYSON: You gonna be alright?

HUNTRESS: Yeah. And here I thought I was such a badass; still need a good cry now and then.

GRAYSON: I'd be scared if you didn't need to cry after finding your father's body parts displayed like trophies. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should wash this stuff off before it dries.

He goes into the bathroom. Huntress looks down at her costume, smeared with paint where Grayson embraced her.

INT. APARTMENT – BATHROOM – NIGHT

Grayson lets the water rain down on him, catching his metaphorical breath, leaning against the wall. We see the toll of the last few days on his damaged back.

GRAYSON: Damn it, Bruce, how could you?

He hears the door open behind him. The steam parts and Huntress steps inside, wearing nothing but her mask. They stand facing each other under the stream of water in the shower. He kisses her suddenly. She slaps him.

HUNTRESS: I'm not that kind of girl.

GRAYSON: What kind of girl are you then?

She kisses him harder, shoving him against the side of the shower stall.

GRAYSON: You always have sex with someone before you find out their real name?

HUNTRESS: Only the lucky ones.

The steam moves up to conceal the action as we cut to...

INT. JUNKYARD – NIGHT

RENARD and his men are gathered, waiting as SOAMES approaches them.

RENARD: Two scores you tipped us to. Two scores that Nightwing sours. I have to wonder what I'm paying you for.

SOAMES: You questioning my integrity? You think I might cross someone like Black Mask?

Renard shoves a gun in his face.

RENARD: You might if there was something in it for you.

Soames smiles.

SOAMES: You're an ignorant child, Renard. Your masks and your threats and your guns. You don't have a clue to the rules here in Bludhaven. Your Black Mask has sent you on a fool's errand.

A MASSIVE shadow descend on all of them.

SOAMES: You will return to Gotham with a message for him... from Bludhaven's true power.

INT. JUNKYARD – LATER

Two PATROLMEN approach the area.

PATROLMAN 1: I hate anonymous tips.

PATROLMAN 2: Maybe it was just a prank call.

They see the bodies.

PATROLMAN 1: Maybe not.

PATROLMAN 2: There's somethin' ya don't see every day. Three stiffs wearing masks turned backwards.

Patrolman 1 bends down to examine them.

PATROLMAN 1: Wrong again, Dave. It ain't their MASKS turned backwards...


Next: Crime Lords

 

[Zev]

INT. HOSPITAL – NIGHT

Loyal husband JIM sits by Amy's bedside for a moment until a DOCTOR calls him away. The room is now empty. The window slides open and Nightwing creeps in. He opens a vial of smelling salts under her nose. She wakes up just in time for him to clamp a hand down over her mouth.

NIGHTWING: If I take my hand away, you promise not to scream?

She nods. He takes his hand away.

AMY: Dick Grayson. Under the mask, you're Dick Grayson.

NIGHTWING: You going to tell people about that?

AMY: What would you do if I were?

NIGHTWING: I'll think of something. But for your sake, I hope you'll reconsider.

AMY: Don't worry. I'm good at keeping secrets.

NIGHTWING: I know. So, how much does Blockbuster pay you? Do you pull down a lot after taxes or do you have to work a second job?

AMY: It's not like that...

NIGHTWING: Then what is it like, Amy? Explain things to me!

Amy closes her eyes.

AMY: I was escorting a witness. Real scumball. He'd turned state's evidence and a lot of people were going to go to jail. Then this other cop comes to me and says I can make a lot of money if I turn the other way for a moment while he "disappears." I say no. So he says if I don't play ball, he'll kill my kids. And my husband. And me. What would you do?

NIGHTWING: Report it to my superior.

AMY: He was my superior. Chief Redhorn is just as dirty as the rest of the department. Just as dirty as me. So yeah, I do jobs for him from time to time. I follow orders.

NIGHTWING: Who does Redhorn take his orders from?

AMY: Don't know. Blockbuster keeps himself covered. Nobody gets a meet with him.

NIGHTWING: Give me something I can use.

AMY: Why?

NIGHTWING: Because... because if you're an informant, I don't have to bring you in.

AMY: That doesn't make any sense.

NIGHTWING: It's the rules.

AMY: What rules?

NIGHTWING: (almost crying) Give me something I can use so I don't have to arrest you in front of your family.

AMY: Some of the boys, I've heard them say they... they pull round-the-clock watches on St. Ant's.

NIGHTWING: St. Anthony's? The nursing home?

The doorknob turns. Amy looks to see Jim come back in. She looks back to see Nightwing has pulled his mentor's famous disappearing act.

JIM: Amy! You're awake!

INT. TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT

Floor-to-ceiling windows give a hillside view of Bludhaven. Soames paces in front of them, swirling a wineglass in his hands. For the record, our villain's lair.

SOAMES: All ours. Bludhaven for the taking. But I'm not sure leaving Huntress alive was such a bright idea. Chief Redhorn was content to think Nightwing was an urban legend, a myth. Now there'll be heat.

We see an ornately-furnished dinner table. Massive hands grip and rip apart one of the several chickens. A voice, deep and guttural, from the shadows.

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) That's your area of expertise, Mr. Soames. You keep police interests... distracted. You keep them away from the true power in this miserable city.

SOAMES: You keep it so damn dark in here...

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) For the same reason there are no mirrors in this house. Earlier, you referred to Bludhaven as "ours." Please correct that misconception. It smacks of greed. You know how I reward greed.

SOAMES: Wee slip of the tongue.

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) As I thought.

SOAMES: And what about this Nightwing? I can't keep him chasing his tail forever.

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) He's a charlatan. A mere shadow of his mentor. We can occupy him with lowlifes and street hoods. He can even be useful for eliminating competition. He's nothing to worry about. He's no Batman.

SOAMES: If you need a puppet, the Huntress would be better suited to your purposes. Nightwing is too dangerous.

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) Very well. But be sure, Mr. Soames, lest you find yourself taking your target's place.

SOAMES: No worries, sir. By this time tomorrow, our little vigilante's gonna have a harp to go along with those wings.

INT. TORTURE CHAMBER – NIGHT

BLACK MASK, a dapperly dressed man with a black skull for a face, is holding a scalpel up to a strapped-up man, who looks appropriately terrified.

BLACK MASK: I know starting an autopsy when one is still alive is... unorthodox, but hey, why put off til tomorrow, right?

SMILEY, a high-level Falsefacer lieutenant in a yellow "Be Happy" smiley face mask, enters and hands Black Mask a note. He never says a word, just stands at attention. Disturbingly, we catch glimpses of horrifying burn scars behind his mask. Black Mask grows more and more angry as he reads. Finally, he crunples the letter up and turns to Smiley.

BLACK MASK: Gather up a force of your best men. Go into Bludhaven and bring me the box... along with the interloper's head.

He turns back to the victim as Smiley salutes and hurries off.

BLACK MASK: The left kidney's connected to the... red thing... the red thing's connected to the... redder thing!

INT. APARTMENT – MORNING

We follow a trail of wet footprints from the shower towards the bed. Then a funny thing happens. The wooden boards stop and are replaced with marble tile. Like mismatched carpet samples.

INT. BALLROOM – MORNING

Easing all the way onto the marble tile, we come across a puddle of blood. A FROG jumps into it, ribbits, jumps offscreen. The camera keeps moving and we come across more signs of chaos. Spent bullets, the still-twitching foot of an offscreen body... then a BODY falls right in front of us, dead, bullet right between the eyes. Off this disturbing sight we RISE to see HELENA BERTINELLI, age eleven, dressed in a pristine white dress. Shivering mightily, arms wrapped around herself.

HELENA'S POV
The chaos is revealed in small, bite-size snippets. Dead men. Dead women. Dead children. Bullet holes in the walls. Blood splatters. This is a Mob hit and a damn good one.

Back on Helena. We hear footsteps approaching. A soft, amiable, but MUFFLED voice.

SILENCER: (O.S.) Hello there.

A man walks into frame. Black pants. Black Kevlar vest. Bondage mask covering his face. He unzips the mouthpiece. All we see is his smile as he kneels down in front of her.

SILENCER: You're a quiet one, aren't you? That's alright. A lot of people talk all the time and they don't say anything at all. But not you. You know that children should be seen and not heard. That's why I'm going to live. Because you didn't scream or cry or yell for help. You just kept quiet. Quiet as the grave. Can you pass along a message for me? Would you do that?

Helena nods, numb.

Silencer dips the barrel of his gun into a puddle of her father's blood and writes "Silence is golden" on her chest.

SILENCER: Now I want you to remember a word. A very special word. A magic word, like "abra kadabra" or "hocus pocus." The magic word is... "Omerta." You remember that, okay? Omerta.

INT. APARTMENT – MORNING

Huntress jerks awake, the discarded Nightwing and Huntress costumes covering her naked body like bedsheets. Still wearing her mask. She looks around quickly, establishing that Dick isn't there to notice her fear. So she gives in, curling around herself, knees drawn up against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs.

INT. APARTMENT – BATHROOM – MORNING

The cell-phone sits on the sink next to a bar of soap, dialling. Grayson is shaving.

BARBARA: (filtered) Hello?

GRAYSON: Hey.

BARBARA: (filtered) Dick? Sorry, I thought it was late, even for you. Decided to catch some zees.

GRAYSON: (whispering) Shhh, you'll wake her!

BARBARA: (filtered) Wake her!? Dick, what the hell are you doing!?

GRAYSON: (whispering) Long story. Short version, I kinda talked Huntress into surrendering to the cops, bad cops tried to kill her, now I'm taking her under my protection.

BARBARA: (filtered) Oh, well, that's not so bad...

GRAYSON: (whispering) And one thing led to another and...

BARBARA: (filtered) No no no no...

GRAYSON: (whispering) She's really a nice girl, Babs. You'd like her.

BARBARA: (filtered) No, I wouldn't! Huntress isn't like us, Dick. What are you gonna tell Batman?

GRAYSON: Batman's not the boss of me, remember? Not anymore. Listen, I need you to run a search on all the residents of the St. Anthony's nursing home. Cross-check relations with anyone with the resources to be this Blockbuster character, especially bank accounts. Whoever's hiring these weirdos, it's taking a lot of capital.

BARBARA: (filtered) Okay, got it. One name leaps out.

GRAYSON: Supersize me.

BARBARA: (filtered) Roland Desmond. Remember him?

GRAYSON: Small-time hood. Due to a rare birth defect, he grew up into a human juggernaut, but retained the intelligence of a child. Thought he died.

BARBARA: (filtered) Apparently not. He’s covered his tracks well. No address, no subscriptions... he’s a ghost. (beat) At least tell me she doesn't know your name.

GRAYSON: (pointedly) Not YET. (beat) What? Say it, Babs, say it.

Silence.

GRAYSON: Oh, is this the part where you say I should have waited? That I shouldn't have thrown away what he had? That we still have something? Because I'm not feeling it.

BARBARA: (filtered) This is all about what you can feel with you, isn't it? What you can touch and see and measure and count!

GRAYSON: That's right, Barbara. I didn't touch anything when I tried to reach out all those months in the hospital. I didn't see you when you got out. I couldn't measure all your feelings when I told you I was leaving because there wasn't any. And I couldn't count... and I asked you to come with me and you didn't say anything at all.

BARBARA: (filtered) Alright, maybe this relationship is on the bricks, and maybe I am a little at fault. But this girl... she's bad news.

GRAYSON: I'll be the judge of that.

BARBARA: (filtered) You know what? That's not even the point. Point is that every time someone's even nice to you, you feel this almost pathological need to...

GRAYSON: Whoa now, wait a minute, that's not fair. Now you're making me sound like I'm just afraid to... to...

BARBARA: (filtered) To be alone? Listen to me, Dick, I get that she reminds you of... that she feels familiar, honey. But for all your talents, you are not the world's best judge of character. You grew up thinking Bruce was normal. I respect him as much as you do, but he's not a... comfortable man, you have to see that! I know you have good intentions, but the Huntress is a bad choice. She's not stable. Dick, there is a reason Bruce wouldn't let her operate in Gotham.

Bruce didn't want Huntress in Gotham? That takes Dick aback. Before he can ask Barbara to clarify, Huntress, wrapped in bedsheets, comes from behind and wraps an arm around him. She picks up the cell-phone.

HUNTRESS: Hey Oracle. Don't worry...

INT. CLOCKTOWER – NIGHT

BARBARA GORDON, late twenties, beautiful, analytical. If you had a crush on a librarian as a kid, that's her.

HUNTRESS: (filtered) Nightwing's perfectly safe here.

Hang-up. After a moment, Barbara types parameters into the computer, starting a search. Waits a moment. Then sweeps a bunch of papers off her desk in a fit of pique.

BARBARA: Damnit!

She calms down. Then pulls back from the desk, revealing she's in a WHEELCHAIR. She reaches down for the papers. Has to lean over to get to them. After much strenuous work, grabs them up and puts them down on the table.

INT. APARTMENT – BATHROOM – MORNING

Huntress melts into Grayson, brushing some stray shaving cream off his face.

GRAYSON: Why'd you leave the mask on?

HUNTRESS: Because when I'm the Huntress I have no past. When the mask comes off, the memories flood in. It's not a very pleasant experience.

Grayson puts his hands on her face.

GRAYSON: You mind?

HUNTRESS: Get it over with.

He slips her mask off.

GRAYSON: You're beautiful.

HELENA: Thank you.

She moves to kiss him. He pulls back, a bit remorseful despite his strong words to Barbara.

GRAYSON: I don't even know who you are.

HELENA: Name's Helena Bertinelli. Pleased to meet you.

She kisses him.

HELENA: So, what's your name?

GRAYSON: ...Dick. Dick Grayson.

HELENA: Dick? That's your name?

GRAYSON: Yeah, what?

HELENA: Never think of going by Richard?

GRAYSON: (darkly) That was my father's name.

HELENA: Well, whatever your flaws are, at least you're honest.

She tosses him his wallet. He opens it and looks at his driver's licence.

GRAYSON: You're a very trusting sort, anyone ever tell you that?

HELENA: Trust, then verify. So, this mean we going steady?

GRAYSON: For now, let's just think of it as a pleasant nightcap. Let's leave it on the backburner and see what develops.

HELENA: Works for me.

Grayson wipes his face off with the towel aroudn his shoulders, moves out.

INT. APARTMENT – MORNING

Grayson sprays Brasso on a handkerchef, rubs his badge with it. Considers his reflection in a window.

HELENA: Where you going?

GRAYSON: Work.

HELENA: I don't see why you even go to work as a cop anyway. You're a vigilante and you still try to work within the system...

GRAYSON: I want to fit in.

HELENA: Whatever...

Grayson considers this for a moment, puts down the badge. Picks up a domino mask from the dresser.

GRAYSON: Helena?

HELENA: Yeah?

GRAYSON: I'm gonna need the handcuffs back.

INT. PRECINCT – DAY

Amy is back to work, looking very conflicted. Soames approaches her, holding an envelope.

SOAMES: Got something for you, Rohrbach.

AMY: I told you before, I just don't want it.

SOAMES: Amy, Amy, Amy you're going to have to learn what it takes to be a cop in this town. It makes the guys nervous when someone doesn't participate. Not me, of course, I trust you implicity!

He laughs insincerely.

SOAMES: But THEM... They think you might say something. They think you might forget your place.

AMY: It's not like that, I just don't need the money. Maybe if I had trouble making ends meet like some of the other guys it would be different.

SOAMES: They're saying, 'maybe she thinks she's better than we are. Maybe she thinks she's superior.' Is that how it is, Aims? You think you're better than us schlubs?

AMY: No, it's nothing like that.

SOAMES: So you're not a saint, Rohrbach. Who are you?

AMY: I'm just a cop

SOAMES: Yeah, that's right. You're one of us.

He jams the envelope into her hand.

SOAMES: We're planning a little surprise party for birdboy and we need all the guns we can get. I'll expect you there.

Addad pokes his head into the conversation.

ADDAD: Inspector Soames! You got e-mail!

Soames walks back to his desk, leaving Amy looking conflicted.


Next: Zoo

 

[Zev]

EXT. BLUDHAVEN ZOO - NIGHT

Bludhaven's wildest nonhuman animals behind bars, a sanctuary from the urban sprawl. The tips of skyscrapers and apartment buildings on Fifth Avenue peek out high above the surrounding trees.

Dirty polar bears lay across giant slabs of concrete in an Arctic enclosure. An alligator floats across an oily pond, seen through a window underwater. Puffins and toucans stare out from their cages, bored.

Nightwing and Huntress scale the gate and land easily on the other side. Nightwing hefts the Box.

HUNTRESS: Why a zoo?

NIGHTWING: You can ask him.

SOAMES: (O.S.) Ask me what?

Nightwing and Huntress look up to see Soames walking along the outer wall of the zoo, high above them.

SOAMES: Nightwing. And you must be Huntress. I see you two're keepin' body and soul together in the face of adversity.

NIGHTWING: If you mean that I'm still alive, yeah. Blask Mask wants this town for his own. He's determined to take over Bludhaven's mobs.

SOAMES: That I know. (beat) Give us the box, Wing.

NIGHTWING: Who's running Bludhaven? Who ordered the hit on the Bertinelli Family?

SOAMES: The Bertinellis? That's ancient history.

NIGHTWING: Somebody's running Bludhaven in the vacuum left by Franco Bertinelli. Somebody named Blockbuster.

SOAMES: Blockbuster, eh? You've done your homework.

NIGHTWING: And your dirty work. Why do I have the feeling you play both sides, Soames?

SOAMES: You're telling the tale, lad.

NIGHTWING: This gang war, Black Mask against Blockbuster, I don't think Mask is the cause of it. I think it's homegrown. Which only leaves one question. Why don't you care?

SOAMES: As long as these gangs keep their killin' among their own kind and off the streets of the votin' wards, nobody cares. I was once as brash as you. But I learned. Now, give us the Box.

HUNTRESS: Where's the ledger?

SOAMES: This is a police matter. I'll take it from here.

NIGHTWING: And I'll come along. Just to verify.

SOAMES: You? Verify me? You're a vigilante, I'm a respected police officer. Me, legitimite. You, outside the law. Get it?

Nightwing smiles tightly.

NIGHTWING: I'm betting you're in that ledger.

SOAMES: Me? Do the math, genius, it was before my time. I transferred here! Believe it or not, this goes way beyond simple self-preservation. Bertinelli laid the groundwork for much, much more; stuff that stretches beyond this petty burg. You think this is about a few crooked cops? If that book gets out, it could ruin judges, senators, masters of industry. The entire country would be thrown into chaos. The American people would lose faith in their government. It'd be the LA riots all over again. New Orleans times a thousand. And cops, cops like us, would be the collaterial damage. (beat) This goes way above our paygrade, son.

NIGHTWING: Good.

SOAMES: You think you're so cool, don't you? Riding in here on a white horse to save the city. Newsflash, hotshot: Bludhaven doesn't want to be saved! Listen!

He turns around and screams out at the cityscape.

SOAMES: Hey! I'm a rogue cop! I'm about to kill some idiots in pajamas who think they're heroes! Anyone want to make something of it? Somebody dial 911!

He turns back.

SOAMES: Never a cop around when you need one. Oh, wait...

He whistles and a bunch of CORRUPT COPS emerge from hiding, aiming their weapons at the heroes.

SOAMES: This is the part where you'll want to make some oh-so-witty pop culture reference, like "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" Or, "YOU WERE THE CHOSEN ONE!" I really don't care. But I'm not totally lacking in compassion. Give me the Box and I'll let the girl go.

HUNTRESS: Screw you.

She raises her crossbow. Nightwing forces it back down as the cops cock their weapons in unison

NIGHTWING: No! (beat) I appreciate the gesture.

He sets the Box down.

NIGHTWING: (eagerly) I'll open it, there's a trick to...

Soames jumps down, gun trained on Nightwing.

SOAMES: I don't think so. Kick it over here.

Nightwing does. Soames bends down and turns the Box around to face himself.

SOAMES: Don't ever change, son. (to cops) Kill them.

The cops take aim as he opens the Box. There's a CLICKING noise as he sees it's filled with primed FLASHBANG GRENADES.

SOAMES: ...fiddlesticks.

Nightwing covers Huntress' eyes and throws SMOKE PELLETS to the ground as the grenades GO OFF. The cops are BLINDED. They open fire anyway as Nightwing and Huntress make a run for it. The smarter cops trace their weapons towards the sound of their footsteps. Nightwing and Huntress race bullets into the Arctic enclosure.

INT. ARCTIC ENCLOSURE – NIGHT

A dark, cavernous room. A large banner, "EDGE OF THE ICEPACK", hangs on the wall. Penguins lazily glide underwater behind gigantic glass walls as FAKE PENGUIN NOISES play over a cheap sound system. Huntress rubs her eyes as PROTECTIVE LENSES pull back from inside Nightwing's mask.

HUNTRESS: Damn, my eyes...

NIGHTWING: Sorry, couldn't let on to Soames.

HUNTRESS: You could've told me beforehand.

NIGHTWING: Could I?

HUNTRESS: (shaking her head) You always sleep with women you don't trust?

NIGHTWING: That's putting it mildly. DOWN!

He tackles Huntress out of the way as a LIGHTNING BOLT penetrates the space where they were a second ago. They duck behind an INFORMATION KIOSK as ELECTROCUTIONER walks out of the shadows.

ELECTROCUTIONER: There's no escape. We have men everywhere.

He pours the voltage into the kiosk, starting to melt it. Huntress examines a hole that Electrocutioner tore in her cape.

HUNTRESS: Never thought it would end like this.

NIGHTWING: How did you think it would end?

HUNTRESS: Jumping out of a plane without a parachute.

NIGHTWING: That's... oddly specific. Those cops are going to recover any minute and then we'll be fighting on two fronts. Not good.

HUNTRESS: Then let's kick flank.

Huntress and Nightwing jump out from cover to fire a crossbow bolt and throw a Birdarang, respectively. They bounce off Electrocutioner's energy shield harmlessly. The heroes jump behind a statue of a fearsome polar bear. Electrocutioner circles around to get a clear shot, putting his back to the penguin enclosure.

HUNTRESS: So, this guy have any weaknesses?

NIGHTWING: Water.

HUNTRESS: I think I've got an idea. Hand me a grappling hook.

Grayson hands her a de-cel line anchor, primes it. She detaches the mini-winch from her crossbow and jams the grappling hook into it. Then fires a harpoon past Electrocutioner.

ELECTROCUTIONER: Ha! You missed!

She turns on the mini-winch. It reels itself in towards the embedded harpoon, dragging the grappling hook behind it. Before Electrocutioner can dodge out of the way, a hook prong catches on his shoelaces and drags him along for the ride. He SCREAMS as he's pulled into the penguin pond, which suddenly flashes with electricity. The penguins, safe on their phony iceberg, look down at the electrocuted water with curiosity.

NIGHTWING: Shocking, isn't it?

HUNTRESS: The pun thing... is it really necessary?

NIGHTWING: Yes. Totally. C'mon, I've got an idea.

He runs towards the WALRUS ENCLOSURE, a depressed area between the ground and the wall. A safety rail stands in front of the slope. Nightwing and Huntress jump over it and slide down the slope into the environment proper. The WALRUSES start to wake up.

HUNTRESS: Where are we going?

NIGHTWING: All zoos have supply tunnels running below the cages for maintenance, feeding, that kind of thing.

HUNTRESS: You're sure?

A walrus eyes them hungrily.

NIGHTWING: You'd better hope I'm sure. This species of walrus is carnivorous.

He finds a HIDDEN DOOR and tries the knob. It's locked, of course. He twists his wrist and a PRONGED LOCKPICK shoots out of the wristband of his glove. He grabs it and begins picking the lock. Huntress aims her crossbow at the approaching walruses.

HUNTRESS: Stay back! Don't think I won't use this just because you look like you have a cute little beard!

NIGHTWING: That's telling them.

The door pops open. He and Huntress dive in, slamming the door behind them.

INT. ZOO INFIRMARY – NIGHT

Out of the supply tunnels come Nightwing and Huntress. The room is huge and clinically furnished, with ultraviolet lamps the only illumination. The gurneys, surgical tables, and other equipment all lies neatly put away and abandoned. The infirmary is deserted except for a large CAVE in the back in which a huge SILVERBACK GORILLA is stored for overnight care.

HUNTRESS: Where are we?

NIGHTWING: Veterinarian. I think we lost them.

LADY VIC seems to come out of nowhere, coming up behind Nightwing and wrapping a THUGGEE STRANGLING CLOTH around his neck. It's cruelly effective. Before Huntress can help him, a throwing knife flies into Huntress' arm. It's quite small and no real harm is done. She pulls it out.

HUNTRESS: Oww! That really, really hurt!

BRUTALE steps up. His hands flash and THROWING KNIVES appear in them like a magician's cards.

BRUTALE: I presume you've heard of the death of a thousand cuts?

Huntress hefts her crossbow.

HUNTRESS: I only need one.

INT. ARCTIC ENCLOSURE – NIGHT

Soames watches impatiently as Electrocutioner is fished out of the water.

SOAMES: Where'd they go?

ELECTROCUTIONER: Walruses...

Soames walks over to the walrus enclosure, where the walruses are snapping at the few cops trying to descend the slope.

COP: We've got a problem, sir!

Soames brutally guns down the walruses.

SOAMES: Problem solved.

INT. ZOO INFIRMARY – NIGHT

Lady Vic twists the silken cord even deeper into Nightwing's throat.

LADY VIC: Can you feel it, "Nightwing"? The oxygen being cut off from that peabrain of yours? I imagine even half a wit still needs air.

Nightwing swings around so that Lady Vic is pressed against the bars of the gorilla cage. The GORILLA presses back, sending them both flying and breaking the hold. The choking cloth flutters to the ground like a handkerchef. Lady Vic draws her beloved Bundi daggers. Nightwing draws his escrima sticks.

Meanwhile, Huntress and Brutale circle. Brutale takes out his favorite knife, a nasty saw-toothed number. Huntress smiles and unsheathes a BOWIE KNIFE.

HUNTRESS: Mine's bigger.

Brutale twirls his glinting knife around.

BRUTALE: I'll cut it down to size.

He lunges. Huntress catches his wrist. With her free hand she tries to slash him across the face. He jerks his head back. Huntress' swing leaves her wide open. He headbutts her, knocking her back. She slams into the wall, nose bloodied. He tosses his knife in the air, catches it in a new position for the killing stroke. Moves in...

As Lady Vic moves in, daggers flashing, Nightwing barely keeping her at bay. Overhead swing from Lady Vic, like she was chopping wood. Nightwing catches the blow with a cross-guard, whips the Bundi daggers into the cage. Lady Vic sucker-kicks him, knocking the wind out of him. Nightwing staggers back as Lady Vic tries to reach for her daggers inside the cage. Almost gets it when the vicious APES leap out of nowhere, SNARLING, and smash into the bars. Lady Vic jumps back, barely escaping with her arm. Draws her knobkerry, a fighting stick with a knob at the end. The head is a rootball of a tree and a shoot is the handle. The other end is a sharp point for backward stabbing.

She moves in, swinging hard. Nightwing takes one on the hand. Fingers break and he's forced to drop one of his sticks. He moves back, puts his damaged hand behind his back like an old-fashioned duellist, swipes his remaining escrima stick out... and it TELESCOPES OUT to the length of a short staff.

Huntress ducks down as the knife swipes overhead, kicking up sparks against the rock wall. She lunges forward, tackling Brutale into a surgical table. He buries the knife up to the hilt in her back. She screams and wrenches backwards. Brutale smiles and draws a knife from his belt. It's grimy-looking, caked with dried blood.

BRUTALE: I use this one... only for the kill.

He moves for her, knife held forward, when she GRABS a lamp attached to the table and redirects it so he stabs into the bulb. She allows Brutale a moment of realization before flicking the light switch. Electricity courses through the lamp and into the knife, ELECTROCUTING Brutale. He falls backwards onto the surgical table. Huntress reaches behind her and pulls his knife out, holds it to Brutale's chin.

HUNTRESS: (low and vengeful) I think I'll start the incision here.

Nightwing continues his fight with Lady Vic. His staff is too fragile to survive a toe-to-toe beatdown with Lady Vic's knobkerry, so he uses it instead to redirect and deflect her attacks, a fencer instead of a swordsman. One of her redirected attacks accidentally SHATTERS the lock on the cage. The six-hundred-pound gorilla BUSTS OUT!

NIGHTWING: Oh ****.

LADY VIC: Indeed.

They holster their weapons and RUN, Nightwing dragging Huntress along as he passes her. He doesn't notice what she's about to do to Brutale.

HUNTRESS: Huh?

NIGHTWING: Shut up and run!

The gorilla reaches Brutale, flings him into the wall like a rag doll. ROARS and beats his chest.

INT. AMY'S HOUSE – NIGHT

Amy lies in bed, unable to sleep. Beside her, Jim snores peacefully.

After a moment, she picks up the phone.

INT. SUPPLY TUNNELS – NIGHT

Nightwing helps Huntress hobble along as best she can. Lady Vic easily outpaces them. Up ahead, a big METAL door. Lady Vic runs inside and slams it shut. Nightwing tries the knob. Locked.

HUNTRESS: Death by ape. Gotta admit it's an interesting way to go...

Nightwing looks around for a solution. The gorilla CHARGES.

NIGHTWING: We're not dying.

Huntress holds out a handful of blood.

HUNTRESS: Certainly less prosaic than a knife wound.

She collapses against the wall, grabbing onto a LOCK-BOX for support. Nightwing draws a Birdarang and slicies it open. Inside, a single-shot TRANQ GUN. Nightwing grabs it and fires into the gorilla's chest. It collapses a few feet from them. Nightwing reloads with a dart inside the lock-box and looks up to see an AIR VENT overhead.

INT. OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR – NIGHT

Lady Vic has her back pressed against the wall next to the door, SWAT style, ready to club the next person who comes through. The AIR VENT COVER above her falls to the ground. Nightwing is sitting in the vent. He FIRES a dart into her throat.

NIGHTWING: Rule Britannica.

She collapses as Nightwing drops down. He throws the trang gun inside and opens the door. Huntress collapses into his arms.

HUNTRESS: I really could use some sort of bandage if you aren't planning on... ya know, me DYING and all...

The cops round the corner. Nightwing closes the door as they open fire. Their bullets ricochet off it. He locks it and rips off part of Huntress' cape, uses it to tie a tourniquet over the wound.

NIGHTWING: That won't hold them for long. Let's head for the reptile house.

HUNTRESS: Why the reptile house?

NIGHTWING: Favorite place in the zoo.

HUNTRESS: Hey, mine too.

INT. SUPPLY TUNNELS – NIGHT

One of the cops is listening in through the door. He clicks on his radio.

COP: Sir, they're headed for the reptile house!

INT. REPTILE HOUSE – NIGHT

Soames and a half-dozen of his men walk in, armed to the teeth. The walls encrusted with terraniums in which various lizards sleep. One large window shows a lagoon, on the surface of it (seen from below) a THIRTY-FOOT-CROCODILE floats like a log. Soames looks at it for a moment.

SOAMES: What the hell kind of zoo is this?

Outside the "inner ring" of terraniums lies an "outer ring," a staircase wrapped around the main lobby which spirals up to the roof. We hear a tapping sound as Huntress staggers up it. Soames fires a shot, misses.

NIGHTWING: (O.S.) Hey! Over here!

Soames and his men spin. Catch a glimpse of Nightwing's symbol floating into the darkness. It catapults backwards before they can open fire. The ensuing volleys of gunfire reveal nothing but empty air.

SOAMES: C'mon, Nightwing. Give me what was inside the box and I'll split the money with you, fifty-fifty. You can move to somewhere else, someplace where people actually need a hero! It's a big country, why do you have to run around in my backyard? (beat) Son, if you don't come out, I'm going to find your little girlfriend. And I'm going to hurt her. And then I'm going to make you look at what I did to her.

No reponse.

SOAMES: Well, what do you think of that?

NIGHTWING: I think it's a crock.

And suddenly we realize that Nightwing's been in the scene all along, we just haven't SEEN him. He throws a Birdarang into the massive window, leaps away as bullets criss-cross under him. The Birdarang vibrates, sending out ultrasonics. Soames turns as the glass starts to crack.

SOAMES: Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed in the morning.

The glass IMPLODES into the reptile house, the crocodile carried along on the torrent of unleashed water. Soames and his men make for the staircase. One thug is CHOMPED in two by the croc's snapping jaws. Another is disemboweled by lethal claws. Soames catches a whipping tail and is sent flying into a "you are here" map board. He gets up as the crocodile rushes towards him, pumps eight bullets into it's head.

SOAMES: I'm gonna kill ya and make a suitcase out o' ya! What do ya think of that!?

The crocodile turns onto its side and expires. Reinforcements arrive up from the supply tunnel. Soames grabs a GRENADE LAUNCHER from one and points them up the staircase.

SOAMES: I want Nightwing alive! Kill the spare!

EXT. REPTILE HOUSE – ROOF – NIGHT

As Nightwing emerges onto the rooftop, he finds Huntress aiming her crossbow at his face.

NIGHTWING: We've gotta stop meeting like this.

HUNTRESS: Thought you were someone else. Come on.

There's an aerial walkway between buildings, like a rope bridge, exclusively for tourists. They run across it as the cops pursue them.

EXT. BLUDHAVEN ZOO – NIGHT

Soames walks along the ground of the closed zoo, watching Nightwing and Huntress as they run towards a "post" holding up the rope bridge. There, the walkway the heroes are on stops and a new one leading in another direction starts. Soames aims his grenade launcher.

EXT. AERIAL WALKWAY – NIGHT

On top of the post, an interactive tour stop with a computerized display and a speaker for distilling information. Nightwing reaches it... and the new walkway EXPLODES. Nightwing is kicked backwards by the force of the explosion. The second walkway falls into a LION PIT, waking the ferocious cats. Huntress tries to double back. The cops are there to put a stop to that. Nightwing and Huntress are caught between hell and high water.

The cops stand in the middle of the walkway, guns trained on the heroes. Below, Soames reloads and aims at the post.

SOAMES: Game's over, kid. Now let's have it.

Huntress, sagging against the automated tour guide, looks at Nightwing.

HUNTRESS: You don't give them squat.

SOAMES: Mr. Cess, do me a favor and put a hole in the girl. That might make him more cooperative.

The lead cop takes aim...


Next: Silence

 

[Zev]

When a line of GUNFIRE traces across his chest.

Nightwing, Huntress, Soames, and the cops turn to see RENARD'S GUNSHIP, now captained by SCHUMACHER AND LARKS. The hold is filled with FALSEFACERS. They open fire, STRAFING the walkway thugs. Everyone but Nightwing and Huntress are mowed down.

SOAMES: NO!

The gunship roars in front of the post like a monster insect. Larks' voice comes over a police bullhorn.

LARKS: Nightwing! Give us the box and you will not be harmed!

Nightwing grumbles:

NIGHTWING: Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.

Soames aims his grenade launcher.

SOAMES: Like hell!

He fires! The tail of the helicopter turns into a FIREBALL. The helicopter tips forward, Falsefacers falling out of the open doors and down to their deaths as the rotors hit the walkway, slicing it apart. The pilot frantically pulls back on the stick, trying to get some lift. Nightwing and Huntress duck down against the floor as the rotors break against the automated tour guide. The helicopter CRASHES into the lion pit.

EXT. LION PIT – NIGHT

Soames circles the edge of the pit, discarding the grenade launcher for his sidearm.

Larks pulls himself free of the wreckage. A ravenous LION leaps onto him, pulling him to the ground. Bites his neck in two, killing him just like that.

Schumacher, emerging from the other side of the helicopter, runs for it. Scrambles up the slope (much like the one in the walrus enclosure) only to see Soames waiting for him. He reaches into his coat pocket...

Soames opens fire. Schumacher is hit in the chest. He falls backwards, tumbling down the slope, the thing he was reaching for falling out of his hand... A POLICEMAN’S TIN SHIELD.

Soames sees it, gleaming in the moonlight.

SOAMES: (quietly) Oh ****.

Schumacher looks up at him.

SCHMACHER: I'm a cop, you nit...

The lions set upon him. Soames turns away.

EXT. HOSPITAL – NIGHT

Establishing shot. All quiet on the western front.

INT. HOSPITAL – SUPPLY ROOM – NIGHT

Nightwing shoves supplies into a shopping bag.

INT. HOSPITAL – COMA WARD – NIGHT

Huntress lies on her belly in an empty bed. Nightwing stitches up her back.

HUNTRESS: You're pretty good at this.

NIGHTWING: Comes with the territory.

HUNTRESS: So, how long have you been doing this?

NIGHTWING: Long as I can remember. I'm sure if you asked Batman, he could give it to you down to the exact minute. What about you, how long have you been living the life?

HUNTRESS: Longer than I can remember.

She pauses, remembering.

HUNTRESS: You know, people think Omerta is a Mafia oath of silence, but it isn't. It has nothing to do with Cosa Nostra. It's something else, related but different. To understand Omerta, you have to understand Sicily. You must understand that Sicily has suffered through invasions and occupations for two thousand years. That teaches a hard lesson... that the state is the enemy. For a Sicilian to look to the state for justice or revenge is to be a fool, to be called infame... a renegade. A rat. You want justice served? You want vengeance taken? You want honor restored? Then you do it yourself. That's Omerta.

Finished with his repair work, Nightwing sits down across from Huntress. She rolls onto her side, resting against her elbow as if watching TV on the carpet.

HUNTRESS: My father was a good man. He was killed by treachery. For years I grew up among his comrades as they squabbled over the remains of his businesses. I hated them. Hated them for living when my family was dead. Hated them because one of their number had taken everything I loved away from me. Hated their pride and arrogance. So smug. It was their fault I'd lived so long afraid and I wanted them to know what that was like. To live terrified. But they weren't afraid of anything. Then the Batman came. He frightened them. He fought them. And no matter what they did, they couldn't escape his vengeance. Then he looked at me. I felt his breath on my face. Then he was gone. That's when I saw how I could fight them, too.

Nightwing chuckles.

NIGHTWING: Oh, this is too much...

HUNTRESS: What?

NIGHTWING: Can't you see? He created you by setting an example. And as with all parents you struggle against him, seeking both approval and liberation.

HUNTRESS: You're saying Batman is my father?

NIGHTWING: From a certain point of view.

HUNTRESS: You're so full of it.

NIGHTWING: Come to think of it, that makes you and me... kinda like incest, don't it?

HUNTRESS: What, you think of Bats like a father?

NIGHTWING: I used to. (beat) He's not. I lied when I said I couldn't remember anything but this life. I remember enough of... I remember what a father should be. He isn't. He, uh... doesn't care.

HUNTRESS: He told me about you.

NIGHTWING: Really? What'd he say?

HUNTRESS: I think I won't tell you.

NIGHTWING: C'mon. Spill.

HUNTRESS: Just the usual. He's proud of you, yadda yadda...

NIGHTWING: Figures he'd wait until I was miles away to say it.

HUNTRESS: Miles? Dick, he's here. In the city.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – NIGHT

Electrocutioner stands in front of the other rogues as an ENORMOUS MAN paces to and fro offscreen, his shadow passing over them like the shadow of death itself.

ELECTROCUTIONER: Now, to be fair, sir, there was no way of knowing there was going to be interference from Black Mask’s dirty cops.

BRUTALE: God knows how they got the tip...

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) And this is meant to excuse your incompetence?

LADY VIC: So you’re letting us go?

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) No. I have assembled you for one last purpose. As Nightwing is obviously too trying an opponent, I wish you to act as a test for a new talent I’ve acquired.

THE SILENCER, looking even bigger and badder than he did in Huntress’ flashback, steps out of the shadows.

BLOCKBUSTER: If Omerta can defeat all of you, then I can be assured he is at least a match for Nightwing.

SILENCER: One at a time or all at once, Mr. Desmond?

LADY VIC: No choice at all!

They attack en masse. Electrocutioner fries Silencer, who doesn’t acknowledge the lightning coursing through his veins. He just plucks a knife thrown by Brutale out of the air and hurls it into Electrocutioner’s forehead.

Lady Vic swings a katar at Silencer, who grabs it and kicks her backwards. Brutale is next. Silencer parries his attacks easily with the katar, which he then stabs into Brutale’s heart. Twisting the handle, he makes the blade OPEN UP inside Brutale, killing him instantly.

Lady Vic runs for it. Silencer watches her go.

SILENCER: Hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.

EXT. BUS STOP – NIGHT

Grayson and Helena, dressed as student nurses, hurry to the bus stop. Grayson is on a cell-phone.

GRAYSON: I know what you’re up to, Bruce. Call me.

He hangs up.

GRAYSON: Got his answering machine. Bastard.

HELENA: This bus should take us to your place. Be here any minute.

GRAYSON: What, you have the schedules memorized?

HELENA: Don’t you?

GRAYSON: No, why would you do that?

HELENA: I can’t believe you were apprenticed to Batman and never found time to read Dracula.

The bus pulls up. They climb onboard and take their seats. A moment of silence as a few more passengers get on.

GRAYSON: What are you thinking?

HELENA: Just that if this were a sitcom, here’s where we would have to deliver a baby.

A massively PREGNANT WOMAN waddles in. Grayson and Helena exchange a look.

INT. HOTEL – NIGHT

Grayson and Helena sneak in.

GRAYSON: Watch the fourth stair, it squeaks.

HELENA: What are you so worried about? Your landlady?

GRAYSON: Yes, actually.

HELENA: What, does she solve mysteries in her spare time?

GRAYSON: Only if this were a sitcom.

HELENA: I’m beginning to think I would prefer life that way.

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Grayson throws the door open. Light streams into the dark room. He steps inside.

GRAYSON: I know you’re there. Step into the light.

The camera slowly pans around the shadowy room.

VOICE: (O.S.) Sorry about letting myself in. I’m only here to talk, Dick. And if you don’t mind...

The camera reaches the window. We see BATMAN revealed in the moonlight. In contrast to Nightwing's sleekness, Batman is all angular. His suit even has the jagged shoulder spikes.

BATMAN: I prefer standing in the shadows.

GRAYSON: Of course you do. Thanks.

BATMAN: (eyeing uniform) When did you become a male stripper?

GRAYSON: (frazzled) I’m guessing no introductions are in order...

He goes to the doorway to the other room. Sees BARBARA leaving the other room.

GRAYSON: ...Helena, Barbara. Barbara, Helena.

BARBARA: Dick, I... why are you dressed as a nurse?

Helena leans into view of the doorframe.

HELENA: Role-playing in the bedroom is an excellent way to...

GRAYSON: Hon, this isn’t the best time.

HELENA: Gotcha.

Grayson steps backwards as Barbara enters the room. Grayson crosses over to Batman, they whisper harshly...

GRAYSON: Why’d you bring her?

BATMAN: She’s needed.

GRAYSON: And who’s watching Gotham?

BATMAN: Black Canary.

GRAYSON: So instead of a boy in short-pants, you’ve got a girl in fishnets. That’s, uh... that’s progress for ya.

BATMAN: You never complained.

GRAYSON: What do you call this right now!? Did it ever occur to you that things might be... awkward between me and Babs?

BATMAN: “Babs and I.”

Dick grits his teeth.

GRAYSON: You set Huntress up to take the fall. Why!?

BATMAN: You don't understand.

GRAYSON: No, I get it! You can't have me, so you're trying to mold her into my replacement. Good little soldier, right? Right? Trust me, Helena, you want nothing to do with this guy.

HELENA: He’s right! Why are you making us jump through hoops like this!?

BATMAN: I need an operative in Bludhaven. Singular. One of you gets the job. One of you gets left out in the cold.

Grayson and Helena look at each other.

BATMAN: Do you have the Box?

GRAYSON: I have the contents. They’re under the bed.

Batman glares at him.

GRAYSON: Well, you didn’t think to look for them there, did you?

BARBARA: (to Helena) Bet you’d’ve found it.

HELENA: Oh, you could too. You’d just have to bend down... oh. Sorry.

Barbara does a fake little laugh full of disdain.

BARBARA: You’re a funny girl. I bet you make all your johns laugh.

HELENA: You can’t talk to me that way! Dick, tell her she can’t talk to me that way!

BARBARA: “Dick”?

Grayson turns away from Batman to look at them.

GRAYSON: Ummm...

HELENA: Tell her!

BARBARA: Yeah, tell me.

There’s a knock at the door. Grayson runs to the peephole.

GRAYSON: (sotto voce) Yes! Prayer works!

He looks into it.

GRAYSON: Oh damn, it’s my landlady! Alright, everyone paying rent on this apartment, in here! Everyone else, in there!

Barbara, Helena, and Batman reluctantly go into the other room. They’re still somewhat visible. Grayson thinks frantically as the knocks continue. Finally, he puts the chain on the door, pulls the collar of his shirt up to his nose, and opens the door only enough to poke his head out.

Clancy’s there.

GRAYSON: Oh. Clancy. Hi.

CLANCY: Dick. Mind if I come in?

GRAYSON: Uh, no, I was just doing some painting, fumes, ya know... this isn’t a pre-pregnant thing, it’s just... you know.

CLANCY: Yeah. What’s with the nursing outfit?

GRAYSON: Costume party.

CLANCY: Ah. Look, I rented some movies an’ me an’ some friends are gonna pop popcorn later. An’ I was wonderin’ if...

GRAYSON: I wish I could, but I’ve... kinda got my hands full at the moment.

Meanwhile, in the other room...

HELENA: (to Barbara) You’re half the woman I am.

BARBARA: Maybe you should go on Weight Watchers then.

We hear the door shut and Grayson walks in, wiping his forehead of sweat.

BATMAN: You really should do something about a lair.

GRAYSON: Thanks. That hadn’t occured to me.

Helena pulls a DUFFEL BAG out from under the bed.

HELENA: Well, it’s been fun, truly – loved the whole getting shot thing...

BARBARA: So did I.

HELENA: But it’s a school night and my folks worry. I’d better be getting home.

BATMAN: Not with that you’re not.

He’s pointing at the duffel bag.

GRAYSON: Her father’s organs?

BATMAN: They’re part of this.

HELENA: They’re my birthright.

GRAYSON: She can hold onto them until tomorrow. We’re get all well-rested, we’ll go get the ledger...

HELENA: I’ll avenge my father’s death...

Batman looks at her with a not-quite-audible growl.

GRAYSON: (to Batman) You’re the one who brought her into this.

BATMAN: This is unwise.

GRAYSON: My city, my rules.

Batman and Grayson are right in each other’s faces. Looks like they could swing any moment.

BATMAN: Fine. We’ll look for the ledger first thing in the morning.

GRAYSON: Uhh, I have work.

BATMAN: With a gun.

GRAYSON: Look, I know you have mixed feelings about the whole cop thing, but I’m trying to make a difference here. If I decide joining the force is the best way to make that happen, then I’d hope you’d have enough faith in me by now to let it be.

HELENA: I think I’ll get out of here before I slip on all the testosterone.

BATMAN: I’ll go back to the hotel.

Helena and Batman leave, Barbara lingering behind a moment.

GRAYSON: (to Barbara) You have a place to stay?

BARBARA: I’ll rent a room.

GRAYSON: You could stay here.

BARBARA: I don’t think Helena would approve.

GRAYSON: I mean, in the hotel. They have good rates.

EXT. HOTEL – ROOFTOP

Batman and Helena walk up to the BATPLANE, hovering silently above the rooftop.

BATMAN: I’ll drop you off at your place.

HELENA: I don’t have a place. Mind if I spend the night with you?

BATMAN: It’s no problem.

HELENA: You could've told me Nightwing was one of yours.

BATMAN: I didn't know.

HELENA: Of course you didn't.

Batman climbs into the cockpit.

HELENA: You know, Dick said you were kinda like a father figure to us.

BATMAN: Get in the plane.

INT. APARTMENT – NIGHT

Barbara brews a cup of coffee. Grayson approaches her tentatively.

GRAYSON: We need to talk.

BARBARA: Probably.

GRAYSON: Why’d you come here?

BARBARA: Batman needs me to find the ledger. The records are still on paper, I need to look through them in person.

GRAYSON: You could’ve called.

BARBARA: You weren’t in. What do you want from me, Dick?

GRAYSON: I don’t know...

BARBARA: Move into a brick house with a white picket fence? What’s Helena then? Just keeping the bed warm?

GRAYSON: I don’t want to get back together, I just want to settle things. I want to be able to look at you without...

BARBARA: Without what?

GRAYSON: Without having regrets.

BARBARA: (quiet) It’s a little late for that.

GRAYSON: Yeah. I think there’s been a lot of... there’s been mistakes on both sides. Maybe we should try to get past that.

BARBARA: I’m willing if you are.

GRAYSON: I am.

BARBARA: Then I’ll see you in the morning.

GRAYSON: Can’t wait.

She leaves. Grayson flops down on his bed. Then pumps his fist.

GRAYSON: Yes!

INT. PRECINCT – FIRING RANGE – NIGHT

Redhorn blasts a target to shreds.

REDHORN: You shot a cop. I can’t help you. You’re on your own.

Soames lurks behind him.

SOAMES: After all my years of faithful service, Chief?

REDHORN: Don’t shine me, Soames. You’ve only served one interest in this town. It was never me. I’ll give you a twenty-four hour headstart. Maybe I owe you that. Then I turn you over to the headhunters myself.

SOAMES: I guess I always knew the rules, eh? But what if I could offer you something worth more than me?

REDHORN: Like?

SOAMES: The ledger you’ve been so anxious to get your hands on... and that has so continuously eluded your grasp. If your place in that document were to be discovered...

Redhorn hits the switch. The target is carried from across the range over to him.

REDHORN: Don’t write checks your ass can’t cash. If I were you, I’d disappear... before I disappeared. Other people might not be so merciful with you.

Soames scowls.

SOAMES: I never make promises I can’t deliver on.

REDHORN: I’ll believe it when I see it.

Soames stalks off. Redhorn watches him go as a CROSSBOW BOLT flies past his ear.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) It’s time for you to face justice.

Redhorn turns. Huntress clips her crossbow on her belt.

HUNTRESS: Thanks for all the help when I was enjoying your “accomodations.” Loved crapping on a toilet with no seat.

REDHORN: It all worked out. Besides, if I’d done anything, it could’ve revealed our... arrangement.

HUNTRESS: Can’t have that.

REDHORN: You’ve got the ledger?

HUNTRESS: Not yet. But soon. (beat) Whatever happens, Nightwing doesn’t get hurt. Swear it.

REDHORN: I swear, nothing untoward will happen to the boy. You’re not having doubts, are you?

HUNTRESS: When we started out, things seemed so... black and white, so simple. Now they’re... complicated.

REDHORN: You know that the justice Nightwing offers isn’t justice at all. If you want your father’s killers to face justice, true justice, you need me.

HUNTRESS: I know. (looks at target) All head shots, Harold?

REDHORN: One thing I’ve learned in thirty years of working this town... never count on a man having a heart.


Next: Vault

 

[Zev]

INT. APARTMENT – MORNING

On Grayson, sleeping. Barbara, sitting beside the bed, runs a hand through his hair, remembering the boy she fell in love with. Grayson mutters something and Barbara leaves after a moment.

INT. APARTMENT – LATER

Grayson wakes up to see SOAMES is standing at the foot of the bed, gun at the ready. He throws the Nightwing costume and a pair of handcuffs to Dick.

SOAMES: Get dressed. We’re going on a little fieldtrip.

INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL – MORNING

Grayson, unmasked, a buttoned coat on over his costume and cuffs, walks in front of Soames.

GRAYSON: Where are we going?

SOAMES: To where this all began. You see, way back in the day, your latest paramour’s father had a lot of people in his pocket. Accountants, G-men, cops, judges, the usual suspects. And he wrote down everything in a little black book.

GRAYSON: The ledger.

SOAMES: Yes. That gets out, it would burn through this city like wildfire. A purge of every corrupt cop and crooked exec in Bludhaven. I assume that’s what you were after.

GRAYSON: Kinda hoping on it.

SOAMES: This place has a long and complex history. One that involved the late, unlamented Franco Bertinelli. There was a time when the city intended to revitalize this area... including this long-abandoned subway line. However, the city made the mistake of awarding a contract to an organization close to Bertinelli. After much graft and mob interference, the entire project became a massive money sinkhole... and was never completed. Why throw good money after bad?

They reach an abandoned subway station. It’s been long abandoned while still in the process of construction. Pits haven’t been filled in, signs lay discarded on the floor. Grayson stumbles up a pair of creaking stairs, Soames behind him.

SOAMES: That doesn’t mean your future father-in-law didn’t profit, of course. The old bastard knew even then what he was going to use this place for. What little construction was done has fallen into disrepair. That’s why we couldn’t simply blast into it, the chance of a cave-in was too great.

GRAYSON: Blast into what?

SOAMES: All in good time, lad.

He shoves Grayson forward, none too gently advising him to keep pace. They reach a giant METAL DOOR, ancient, rusting.

SOAMES: Bertinelli had his own construction project here... once the city gave up. This... his safe... his strongbox... hell, his stronghold! Helena is the sole heir. A sizable inheritance, to be sure... of course, it’s nothing at all like what daddy dearest is rumored to have squirreled away. A vast fortune... in addition to the ledger. A man with the way into Bertinelli’s vault could rule this city. Open it.

GRAYSON: I can’t.

SOAMES: Don’t play dumb, Grayson. Or do you prefer Nightwing? Join me and together we can take over this city, stop the street crime, manage it... or fleece ‘em blind!

GRAYSON: No, really, I don’t know how to open it.

SOAMES: I find it hard to believe that you would go to so much trouble to recover the Box without knowing what it does! No one could be that stupid!

GRAYSON: You’ve been talking to my ex, haven’t you?

SOAMES: You’ve got three seconds to tell me how to open the door. And then I’m going to kill you. Three.

GRAYSON: I’m telling you, I don’t know.

SOAMES: Two.

GRAYSON: You kill me, people will come after you.

SOAMES: One.

Soames racks the slide. Suddenly, a CUEBALL flies into the back of his head. Soames drops, out cold. Barbara, who has been tailing them, rolls out of the shadows.

BARBARA: Zero.

Grayson takes the skeleton key from his wrist pouch and unlocks himself.

GRAYSON: Cutting it awfully close, weren’t we?

BARBARA: Not for me.

GRAYSON: Funny. Hey, you’re the book junkie. This fit any definition of irony?

He takes his unlocked handcuffs and uses them to secure Soames.

BARBARA: The proper term would be poetic justice.

GRAYSON: (slipping on mask) Well, seems like all roads lead to here. Bring in Batman and Huntress.

BARBARA: Sure thing.

INT. BREAKFAST PLACE – MORNING

BRUCE WAYNE is chatting with LEX LUTHOR.

LEX: You should think about racking up an ex-wife sometime, Bruce. It has a few perks to it.

BRUCE: Oh, I don’t know. It seems so complicated. Maybe she’d have kids, maybe I have kids...

LEX: Bruce, I think you’d know whether or not you have kids. And either way...

Bruce’s beeper goes off. He checks it.

BRUCE: Excuse me, I have to take this.

INT. BRUCE’S SUITE – MORNING

Helena is lying on the bed, on top of the covers, watching TV. The phone rings. She picks it up, listens for a few moments, then hangs up.

HELENA: This would happen just after I ordered a pay-per-view.

She picks up the phone

INT. PRECINCT – CHIEF'S OFFICE – MORNING

Chief Redhorn listens to the phone.

REDHORN: I’ll be there right away. You did the right thing coming to me with this.

He hangs up.

INT. SURVEILLENCE VAN – MORNING

SMILEY, with a group of FALSEFACERS, listens to a recording of the phone call just made.

INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL – MORNING

Nightwing examines the door.

NIGHTWING: I think I know how to open it.

BARBARA: Oh really?

NIGHTWING: Believe it or not, there’s a brain behind my chiseled features and rakishly handsome profile.

BARBARA: And here I thought it was behind those muscular buttocks.

NIGHTWING: Look, I may not be able to calculate pi to the eighth power, but I have something more useful than that. I’ve got street smarts.

BARBARA: Street smarts? Are you for real?

NIGHTWING: Alright, smarty-pants, where’s the best place to get a reuben in five blocks?

BARBARA: What are you talking about?

NIGHTWING: Alright, after this is over, I’ll show you. And when you’re enjoying a delicious sandwich, you’re gonna recognize how important street smarts are.

They hear the crunch of gravel as Huntress and Batman approach.

HUNTRESS: Dick, thank God, I called your place and...

BATMAN: Have you figured out a way in?

NIGHTWING: These aren’t conventional locks, but this looks a lot like...

BATMAN: A retinal scanner? I agree.

NIGHTWING: (to Huntress) “Blood, sweat, and tears,” remember? You still have it?

Helena hands him the jar with her father’s eyeballs in it. He holds them up to the scanner. After a nervous beat, it comes on. A laser reads them and one of three lights above the vault door sputters on.

BARBARA: Sweat... that could be fingerprints?

Huntress takes out her father’s hand. Presses it against what can only be a fingerprint scanner. A second light blinks on.

BARBARA: Now we just need number three. Blood.

NIGHTWING: Where are we going to get blood from a dead man?

HUNTRESS: You people always overthink these things?

She pricks her finger on a crossbow bolt, holds it over a small horizontal indentation sticking out of the door. Blood drips down onti it. The third light turns on. The door opens. Huntress sucks on her bloody finger.

HUNTRESS: My father and I are the same blood type.

Batman and Barbara go inside. Barbara looks back. Slow-motion as Huntress takes her finger from her mouth and kisses Dick with bloody lips. A long kiss goodbye. She looks at him sadly for a moment afterwards.

NIGHTWING: What’s wrong?

HUNTRESS: Nothing. Just seems like it’s taken so long to get here. And now that we’re here... someday I’m going to help you find your parents’ killer. Because that’s what this feels like. It feels like... being alive. I love you.

NIGHTWING: (beat) If Batman chooses you...

HUNTRESS: Don’t worry, I’ll let you be my sidekick... as long as you wear the short-pants.

Nightwing smiles.

NIGHTWING: That’s not quite what I had in mind...

HUNTRESS: Come on, we’re keeping the others waiting.

They walk into the vault.

INT. SURVEILLENCE VAN – MORNING

This place has turned into a butcher’s shop since we left it. All the Falsefacers are dead. Smiley is on his knees, bleeding from several copious cuts. SILENCER stands over him.

SILENCER: Now, where are they?

INT. VAULT – MORNING

The look of a morgue. The atmosphere of a crypt. A network of webs and mossy vines hang from the ceiling. Vast, free-standing “bookshelves” full of drawers, like pillars in a Greek temple, are the sole furnishings. The ground is muddied dirt from CEILING LEAKS. Our four step inside.

HUNTRESS: (slightly amiss) “The evil that men do lives after them... the good is oft interred with their bones.” Not this time. The good was interred here.

Nightwing opens a drawer. Bearer bonds.

NIGHTWING: Jesus Christ, this must be worth a fortune.

BATMAN: Mind on the mission. Find the ledger.

Huntress opens a drawer. Inside are family photos. She browses through them as, behind her, Batman and Barbara and Nightwing continue their search.

NIGHTWING: (O.S.) I found it!

Huntress looks up, something coming alight in her eyes. She drops the photos to the ground.

Elsewhere, Batman and Nightwing look through the LEDGER. It’s a thick, leather-bound book.

NIGHTWING: Everything’s in here. Names, dates, everything. We can bring the whole Bludhaven mob down.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) It’s not like it was going to work out anyway.

They look up. Huntress is holding her crossbow to Barbara’s head.

HUNTRESS: I’m not an idiot, you know. I see how it is between you. You’re still in love with her.

NIGHTWING: Helena, what are you talking about?

HUNTRESS: Give me the ledger, Dick. Please.

BARBARA: Dick, what is wrong with your girlfriend?

BATMAN: That’s what I’m wondering.

HUNTRESS: You don’t get it. This is omerta. Personal. If you give that to the authorities, my father’s name will be dragged through the mud. And for what? Just so the killers can hire some hotshot lawyers and get off scotfree? You think I don’t know the way things work?

NIGHTWING: This isn’t the answer.

HUNTRESS: Just give it to me so we can all go home!

Beat.

NIGHTWING: (quiet) Batman...

BATMAN: No.

NIGHTWING: Bruce... please!

Batman hands Nightwing the ledger. He walks up to Huntress. She aims the crossbow at him.

HUNTRESS: That’s close enough.

NIGHTWING: Helena, please. We can work this out. We can find another way.

BATMAN: No we can’t.

NIGHTWING: You’re not helping!

BATMAN: She made her choice.

BARBARA: He’s right.

She drives her elbow into Huntress’ stomach.

Huntress fires.

Nightwing ducks to the side.

The bolt hits Batman in the chest.

Nightwing tackles her and throws the crossbow aside.

NIGHTWING: Why!?

BARBARA: Oh God...

Nightwing looks back. Sees Batman fall to his knees.

HUNTRESS: I didn’t...

In shock, Nightwing lets her go. Stands. Not knowing what to do.

NIGHTWING: Bruce...?

Batman pulls the arrow out of his chest.

BATMAN: Stop... her...

HUNTRESS: It was an accident... an accident...

NIGHTWING: You hurt him.

The punch is almost a reflexive move on his part. She goes down, cape dirtying itself in the mud.

NIGHTWING: I...

He takes another step towards her. She sweeps his legs out from under him. He falls on his ass. Doesn’t stop him from lunging at her. Huntress dodges out of the way of an elbow dropping where her head was a moment ago. She scrambles ass over teakettles for the crossbow. Nightwing grabs her by the ankle, pulls her back. Grabs her in a headlock and she pushes against the ground, sending them both to their feet as she rocks her head backwards, catching him in the nose. He lets go of her and Huntress whirls around with a spinning backhand. Nightwing ducks under it, grabs her by the shoulders and slams her against the wall.

And just holds her.

NIGHTWING: I liked the way things were.

A gun barrel presses against the back of his neck.

REDHORN: That’s enough.

Redhorn has a SWAT TEAM with him. All in full body armor.

NIGHTWING: You’re siding with Redhorn!? He’s a dirty cop!

HUNTRESS: (sotto) And I’m using him. Just like Batman’s using me. None of us has clean hands here.

She steps away. Redhorn points his gun at Nightwing. In the background, Batman and Barbara are cuffed.

REDHORN: I hate these masked punks. They’re adventurers. They play at fighting crime. Makes me sick. Like you can go toe-to-toe with evil and keep your shoes clean. But you walked away from those freaks. You got it, Huntress.

Barbara reaches up, takes off her glasses.

COP: Watch it!

BARBARA: I’m just cleaning my glasses! What, afraid I might run over your foot with my wheelchair?

She begins cleaning her glasses on her shirt. A second cop reaches for Batman’s mask.

COP 2: Let’s see who’s behind the mask.

BARBARA: I wouldn’t if I were you.

COP 2: Who cares what you think?

He pulls off the mask. There’s a bright FLARE. All the cops are stunned. Barbara pulls a lockpick from her glasses and undoes her handcuffs. Redhorn is distracted long enough for Nightwing to kick the gun out of his hands.

NIGHTWING: No hard feelings.

A hard punch doubles Redhorn over. Nightwing runs for Bruce and Barbara without a second look to Huntress. He scoops Batman up and slings him over his shoulder as Barbara strains to keep up with him. Redhorn fires wildly after them. A ricochet takes out one of his own men.

HUNTRESS: Maniac! You’ll kill them! You’ll kill all of us!

Redhorn wheels on her, furious.

REDHORN: You gone soft on me, Huntress? So what if we kill them? They’re in the way!

HUNTRESS: You may not like their style but they’re on our side.

REDHORN: Maybe they were once, but now they’re part of the problem?

HUNTRESS: When do I become part of the problem?

Redhorn fires another burst after the heroes.

REDHORN: Spread out! Find them! (to Huntress) That means you too, babe.

INT. VAULT – DEEPER – MORNING

Nightwing has discovered a small metal door, parted in the middle like elevator doors. He tries to find a way to open it, pulling at the doors. Batman is slumped against the wall, unconscious.

BARBARA: It’s hopeless.

NIGHTWING: No! There’s always a way out! Always!

BARBARA: Sometimes there aren’t.

NIGHTWING: I’m not going to watch you die!

He pauses and collapses against the door, panting hard, emotionally exhausted.

NIGHTWING: (quietly) It’s always like this, huh?

BARBARA: You mean with us?

NIGHTWING: Every time we get close.

BARBARA: I really had a thing for you back then and... bang.

NIGHTWING: It didn’t have to end there, Babs. It didn’t end for me.

Nightwing begins ramming the doors with his shoulder. And for a moment, they actually give a little, bulge inward. A tear opens in the side of his suit from the exertion. He stops. It’s useless.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) Hate to break this up...

She walks towards them, holding a crossbow.

HUNTRESS: But you three have an elevator to catch.

She presses her blood-soaked finger against a keypad on the wall. The elevator doors open.

NIGHTWING: Why are you helping us?

HUNTRESS: I just want you out of the way. Not dead. I need that ledger.

NIGHTWING: I’m sorry.

He kisses her passionately. Then headbutts her, knocking her out. Sets her down in the elevator.

NIGHTWING: Get her and Batman out of here.

BARBARA: What about you!?

NIGHTWING: I’m getting that ledger.

He throws Batman into the elevator.

NIGHTWING: Go!

Barbara reluctantly goes into the elevator. She presses up. Takes his hand in both of hers.

BARBARA: ...it didn’t end for me either.

The elevator doors close. Nightwing pulls his hand away and turns around.

NIGHTWING: Alright, Redhorn. Let’s go.

INT. VAULT – MORNING

The SWAT cops have moved in. Spread out in a wide formation. Some armed with RIOT SHIELDS in addition to their MACHINE GUNS. Suddenly, Nightwing rounds a corner. Grabs one by the rifle and TUGS on it, using the rifle’s sling to whip him into a drawer, then yanks his head right into a buttstroke from the rifle.

A RIOT SHIELD COP hears the commotion. Turns to see what’s going on. Nightwing opens fire on him, full auto, the bullets spider-webbing the riot shield as the cop ducks behind it. As he fires, Nightwing SPRINTS towards the cop. He runs out of bullets within an armspan of the cop. As the cop comes up with his gun, Nightwing jumps and delivers a DROPKICK to the riot shield, which crashes through the cop’s head. The cop flies backwards into a wall, the riot shield hanging around his neck like a picture frame.

SWAT COP: (O.S.) Over here! Come on!

Nightwing looks around. Grabs onto the handhold and climbs up a shelf, drawer by drawer. Three more COPS enter, weapons at the ready. A DRAWER full of paper money lands on one, knocking him out. The other two look up to see Nightwing descend towards them among the hailstorm of money. He drops onto the second cop, knocking him out. The third cop aims at Nightwing’s heart, point blank...

NIGHTWING: I surrender.


Next: Ledger

 

[Zev]

INT. VAULT – MOMENTS LATER

Nightwing, hands in the air, is marched into the opening to the vault, the cop behind him. The cops quickly surround him as the cop who captured Nightwing walks over to Redhorn, who holds the ledger.

REDHORN: Good work, young man.

COP: Who said I was a man?

The cop pulls her helmet off to reveal AMY. She aims her weapon at Redhorn’s head, dead bang on target.

AMY: Tell your men to back off.

The cops are confused. Don’t know where to aim. Redhorn smiles.

REDHORN: You won’t do it. Kill-

Before he can even get the sentence out, SMOKE PELLETS appear in Nightwing’s hands like a magician’s playing cards. He throws them to the floor and in the blink of an eye a ten-foot-and-growing smoke cloud has billowed out like a fogbank to engulf him.

Amy is distracted by this. Redhorn takes advantage of the opportunity to slap the gun out of her hands and wrap his fingers around her throat. She sucker-punches him, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

As they struggle, the cops FIRE INTO the smoke. We catch an occasional glimpse of Nightwing darting through the pea-soup fog as he responds in kind. Birdarangs lance out, striking the cops down with laser precision.

The cops cluster behind the officers with riot shields, forming a crude “tortoise.” They overlap their shields on all sides and overhead, forming a box the Birdarangs can’t penetrate. Inside, the cops prepare GRENADES. They throw them out and the first crop EXPLODES, beginning to dissipate the mist.

Nightwing takes cover behind the base of a shelf. Thinks for a moment. Then it hits him. Of course! He pulls out a length of de-cel cord and wraps it around the shelf. He uses it to begin climbing up the shelf, which shifts threateningly under his weight.

The cops still haven’t spotted him, but the smoke is almost entirely cleared away. His hands strain around the taut cord, which he moves higher. Just as he’s almost at the top, it happens.

COP: There he is!

At the sound, Nightwing immediately ties together the two ends of the line. They whip their weapons up and the rifle-mounted flashlights fall on Nightwing’s body. Grabbing hold of the line, he kicks off the shelf and swings around to the further side as the cops shoot. He just avoid the barrage, but one lucky bullet blasts the line in two. Suddenly, Nightwing isn’t going back towards the shelf, he’s flying out into open air.

Quickly, Nightwing coils his legs and kicks off against the wall, ricocheting back into the shelf. It moves, showering dust. Now he’s hanging from the top of the shelf. The cops really let him have. They unleash a hailstorm of bullets on the shelf. Although the shelf is between Nightwing and the barrage, one punches through. Then another, and another. Nightwing doesn’t have much time.

He swings his legs up against the wall so he’s braced between it and the shelf. Gritting his teeth with exertion, he pushes against the wall with all he’s got. For a moment, nothing happens. A bullet punches through the shelf, an inch away from his face. Then, it goes! The shelf topples like a tree directly at the phalanx of cops. Grayson rides it down. The cops scatter to avoid it.

Nightwing hits the ground running, crouching down into a tight roll and coming up swinging. In a split-second, three cops are down, two to go. They draw on him; he kicks up a fallen riot shield and holds it in front of him. It deflects their gunfire away. CLICK! Their clips run empty. He swings the riot shield like an oversized cudgel and takes them both out in one swing.

Looking over to Amy, Nightwing sees Redhorn hog-tied with several pairs of handcuffs.

AMY: Took you long enough.

Nightwing picks up the ledger.

NIGHTWING: Let’s get the hell out of here.

INT. SUBWAY TUNNEL – MORNING

Nightwing and Amy walk through the tunnels, Amy holding the ledger.

NIGHTWING: You know what?

AMY: What?

NIGHTWING: I think I’m going to call it a day. Take a sick day, stay home, watch some brainless sitcom.

AMY: Sounds tempting.

NIGHTWING: I wasn’t offering.

AMY: There’s a first.

NIGHTWING: What are you trying to imply?

AMY: Nothing...

SOAMES comes out of nowhere, wrapping his manacled hands around Amy’s throat from behind.

SOAMES: Unlock me or I’ll snap her neck!

NIGHTWING: I see you’re not taking the “getting beat up by a girl” thing too well...

AMY: He’s not kidding! Do what he says!

Nightwing pulls a SKELETON KEY from his glove, reaches forward to unlock Soames’ bonds. He inserts the key into the lock, never looking away from Soames’ eyes. He turns it. There’s a click and rattlesnake-quick, Soames shoves Amy into Nightwing, drawing her sidearm from her hip as he pulls away. He aims at both of them. They’re caught dead to rights.

SOAMES: I’m really going to enjoy this.

Suddenly a CANISTER rockets into his chest as if shot out a cannon. He goes down hard as the canister EXPLODES, sending out KNOCK-OUT GAS in every direction. All three cops are immediately wrecked with coughing fits. Nightwing brings one hand to his mouth to try to cover up the hacking coughs, with the other drags Amy along, away from the gas. Just as they’re about to escape, a shadowy figure appears in their way.

SILENCER.

With one whip-like motion he kicks Nightwing back into the cloud, scissors the same leg immediately sideways to take out Amy with a blow to the head. Nightwing puts his hand over his mouth again as he has another coughing fit. When he opens his eyes, Silencer is standing over him, calmly waiting for him to lose consciousness. Nightwing offers the assassin a tight-lipped smile as his eyes roll back into his head...

So fast it’s almost like an electric shock, we cut to Amy sitting bolt upright, wide awake. From the hue of the small amount of sunlight that’s leaking into the tunnel, it’s much later in the day. All that remains of Soames is a vague imprint of where he landed. Where Nightwing lay, there’s a trail. He’s obviously been dragged away.

And the ledger is gone.

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

Grayson hangs from manacles slung over a hook descending from the ceiling. The only light is on him, like a spotlight, a naked lightbulb hanging above him like a parody of the lightbulb going off over a cartoon character’s head. He’s stripped to the waist, gloves off. As bad as we’ve ever seen him. Around him, darkness so absolute it could stretch on forever. Like the mythical fifty-foot shark emerging from the depths, Silencer steps out of the shadows.

SILENCER: I don’t know you.

Grayson stares at him, eyes boring into his blood vessels.

SILENCER: My men are checking your fingerprints and teeth against the government databases. It’s only a matter of time. But I’d like to hear it from you. I’d like to find out who you are. Your life story. What makes a man dress up in black vinyl armor and act like a prince regent assigned to watch an outlaw province?

His smile widens and he begins walking around Grayson, heels clacking against the concrete floor which we now see is covered with dried blood.

SILENCER: It doesn’t matter one way or the other. But I consider myself... a student of humanity and I’d really like to know.

Still, Grayson says nothing. Silencer disappears into the shadows again. We stay tight on Grayson’s face as the footsteps recede into the distance. Now alone, a barrage of fear plays over his features. About ready to weep as he realizes there’s no one left to come for him. There’s a squeaking sound, as if from an old shopping cart, and a tray full of evil-looking surgical instruments is wheeled in by Silencer. He sets them off to Grayson’s side.

SILENCER: Would you like to save me the trouble and confess now or should we indulge the sadist in me?

Grayson’s eyes narrow, but he says nothing.

SILENCER: Strong silent type, eh? I can appreciate that. Very well.

Silencer picks up a scalpel.

SILENCER: Let’s get to it then, shall we?

EXT. AMY’S HOUSE – EVENING

From a hiding place, Amy (in civvies) watches as POLICEMEN question JIM on the front porch. The house is swarming with cops. Amy starts walking in the opposite direction when her cell-phone rings. She answers.

AMY: Hello?

Barbara’s voice, low and scrambled, comes in.

ORACLE: (filtered) Amy Rohrbach. I’m a friend of Dick.

AMY: What? Who is this?

ORACLE: (filtered) That’s not important. What matters right now is helping Nightwing. Now, tell me everything that happened in the vault.

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

Two scalpels are sticking out of Grayson already, one in his cheek, the other in the back of his thigh. Grayson is dousted by a bucket of water. Silencer sets the pail aside.

SILENCER: You’ll be happy to hear I have the power set up. I channeled the master power unit into this one dangerously loose wire. But don’t worry, I’ll be quite careful not to touch it... especially if I’m somehow wet at the time. Have you taken all your safety precautions, hero?

He presses the end of the cable into Grayson, causing the poor bastard to convulse. Grayson grits back the pain, refusing to scream out. Silencer starts walking again, setting the cable aside and picking up another scalpel from the tray.

SILENCER: That was fun. But let’s take a break. Back to basics...

He walks in front of the camera, blotting out our view of Dick, and when he moves away we’re in...

INT. BATCAVE – FLASHBACK

ROBIN sits on a lone chair, electrodes wired to his head and chest.

BATMAN: You must learn to resist pain if you’re going to become my partner. Learn to channel the pain. Are you ready to begin?

ROBIN: I’m ready.

Batman turns a dial up one notch. Robin throws his head back, lets loose a SCREAM!

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

Smash cut back to present-day, as Grayson throws his head back but doesn’t cry out. We zoom in on his eye, bloodshot and red from the beating he’s taken, and smoothly transition into a POV shot. We’re with Grayson, hearing his raspy breathing and frightened heartbeat as Silencer approaches us.

SILENCER: You know, there are four types of pain. Hot, cold, blunt, and sharp. Let’s try blunt for a change.

A fist comes at us like a cannonball and just before it lands we mercifully cut to...

INT. APARTMENT – EVENING

Dick’s apartment has been turned into a mobile command center. Several of Barbara’s suitcases have been unpacked and an entire table has been taken up with computer equipment. Barbara works frantically as Huntress paces.

HUNTRESS: You sure about this?

BARBARA: What would you rather we be doing?

HUNTRESS: Pounding the pavement, pounding informants, something REAL.

BARBARA: This is as real as it gets.

HUNTRESS: I just miss him is all.

BARBARA: Couldn’t tell when you were shoving the crossbow in his face.

HUNTRESS: Listen sister, just because he dropped you...

BARBARA: (overlapping) Dropped me?

HUNTRESS: Doesn’t mean he...

BARBARA: I knew him before you even dreamed up that trampy cos...

The computer beeps.

BARBARA: Someone’s running his fingerprints. Perfect.

HUNTRESS: Perfect!? Won’t that blow his identity wide open?

BARBARA: Not if I can help it. There’s a program buried in the government databases, sends a false identity as a positive match... and makes them WAIT for the information while I run a trace.

HUNTRESS: Barbara, I could kiss you.

BARBARA: Save it for Dick.

But they’re still all-smiles.

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

Grayson looks up. His face is bruised so severely that one eye is swollen shut.

SILENCER: I must admit, I admire your resolve. A lesser man would’ve broken by now. And yet here you haven’t even made a peep. Brave. Foolish, but brave.

Silencer picks up a POWER DRILL.

SILENCER: But such bravery was not meant for this world.

A group of THUGS, obviously loyal to Silencer, approach.

THUG 1: Sir, the boss is here.

Silencer sets down the drill.

SILENCER: Pity. Just when things were getting interesting. (to Thugs) Watch him. And search his costume for anything we can use against him. But no one touches him until I get back. That pleasure is reserved for me alone.

He picks up the ledger.

SILENCER: Adieu, “Nightwing.”

He leaves. The Thugs descend on Nightwing’s boots, gloves, and suit, all lying in a pile on the floor.

THUG 1: All kinds of stuff in this suit.

THUG 2: Boss already found two transmitters.

THUG 3: Nice gloves.

THUG 1: First-aid kid, some kind of chemicals...

He reaches into Nightwing’s glove, finds a folded piece of paper.

THUG 1: What’s this? A note from mommy?

Close on Grayson as he flashes back to the vault.

INT. VAULT – DEEPER – FLASHBACK

Barbara reluctantly goes into the elevator. She presses up. Takes his hand in both of hers.

BARBARA: ...it didn’t end for me either.

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

The Thug begins to read as the others continue inspecting Nightwing’s costume (one finds an ESCRIMA STICK and remarks that the costume LOOKED skintight).

THUG 1: “My dearest darling, I hope you don’t mind this note. I also hope that you forgive me for being too much of a coward to say this to your face, but I fear all I can manage is to put words to paper and hope you understand. I know things have been rough between us lately. Too many harsh words exchanged and not enough gentle ones said. But I never stopped caring for you and seeing you again made me look forward to tomorrow for the first time in a long time. All my love, B.”

He looks up at Grayson, who’s face is steadily darkening.

THUG 1: B, who is that? Barbie? Britney? Bruce? Doesn’t matter. Hey, maybe I'll keep her warm at night once you're gone. What do you think of that?

Grayson purses his lips and makes a WOLF WHISTLE. The suit BEEPS once.

THUG 2: What was that?

A TASER CHARGE runs through the suit, electrocuting and stunning all the men touching it. Grayson opens his mouth, revealing the SKELETON KEY he used to free Soames. He’s had it there, all this time. He spits it up, into his hand, and uses it to unlock himself. Immediately he falls to the ground in a crouch.

Thug 1 rushes him, holding one of Nightwing’s escrima sticks. The manacles are still cuffed to one of Grayson’s hands, so he just grabs the other end and uses it to effectively block the clumsy attack. Buys himself some room by palm-striking Thug 1 in the heart, driving him back, then kicks the escrima stick up out of his hand and finishes up with a twisting back-heel kick to Thug 1’s head, knocking him to the ground. Grayson catches the escrima stick behind his back and kneels down, planting a knee in Thug 1’s back as a precursor to a nasty wrestling hold.

GRAYSON: You so much as smell her perfume, you will run in the opposite direction and not stop until you hit ocean. You got that?

He doesn’t wait for an answer, just knocks the guy out, using the escrima stick with skull-cracking force.

INT. HUMMER – EVENING

Huntress drives, Barbara in the passenger seat. She’s working on a laptop installed in the dash. Huntress notes all the gadgets.

HUNTRESS: So, how many Pokemon you catch in this thing?

BARBARA: I don’t play kid games. Left.

Huntress barrels through a red light. Sirens. COPS on their tail.

HUNTRESS: Don’t know if I can lose them in a fat-ass ride like this.

BARBARA: (typing commands into laptop) Don’t worry about it. I’m rerouting them to the warehouse district on a Code 715.

HUNTRESS: They’re going to be disappointed not to find a nude political protest.

BARBARA: They’ll get over it. Get on the highway and book it.

HUNTRESS: We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.

BARBARA: He’d better be.

INT. DARKNESS – TIMELESS

The shocked thugs recover to see THUG 1 hanging from the hook where Grayson was. The costume is gone. They quickly spread out, searching through the darkness. One turns on the lights. Only a few come on, but it’s enough to make the room dim instead of pitch-black. In a sliver of light, we see a bit of Nightwing winding the manacle chain around his wrist, forming a crude set of brass knuckles.

Then he starts forward, determined stride, pure Clint Eastwood in his blood. No more stealth games. Just comes straight out of the shadows, brash as you please, and WHALLOPS the first guy he sees under the chin. Moves on to the others, escrima stick in one hand, chain in the other. Breaks a bone with each motion. Not playing around anymore. Wounded animal.

The thugs, disoriented by the abruptness of the attack, regroup and rush him as one, surrounding him. The resulting fight is messy as a barroom brawl. Nightwing drives his chained fist into one’s stomach, the poor bastard regurgitates blood. While he’s doubled over, Nightwing leapfrogs over him to drive two boots into the chest of the next thug. Then whirls around to slam his escrima stick into the nearest one’s head, sending him down. Nightwing wades into the fray, escrima stick working overtime, blocking any and all attacks with his chained fist.

Having made an opening, Nightwing escapes from the dogpile. Unfurls the chain in one crisp motion and lassos it around the closest thug’s neck, whips him into another guy with such force it’s a miracle no one’s neck is snapped. Nightwing pulls back, out of breath, swinging the chain overhead warningly. He’s not up to this, not after being tortured. The thugs, sensing blood in the water, advance on him tentatively. He backs up.

They keep coming, now gaining speed with confidence. Until Nightwing turns and runs... right into the hanging Thug 1. He jumps onto him, causing the chain to swing around. Nightwing attacks from the swinging Thug 1, using him like a human shield, escrima stick taking out thugs left and right.

The last thug, the biggest one so far, punches Nightwing, the sheer force sending our guy swinging back. Nightwing unhooks Thug 1 from the hook and lets go of him on the rebound, sending him into the big thug like a dive bomb. Both men crash to the ground and Nightwing lets go of the chain when it reaches the apex of the swing, landing on the big thug and knocking him out.

And that’s it.

EXT. CITY LIMITS – EVENING

The Hummer pulls to a stop.

HUNTRESS: Lonely place.

BARBARA: Yeah. The old Dresherhaven inland canal. We’re closing in on the signal source. The G.P.S. transmitter is accurate to military settings. Somewhere just ahead of us.

Huntress gets out of the car over Barbara’s protests. Walks forward and picks something up from the ground lit by the headlights. Holds it up so Barbara can see. A TRANSMITTER.

HUNTRESS: Looking for this?

Barbara points to a building nearby.

BARBARA: Looking for that.

Huntress turns. She’s right. Place is an obvious hideout.

HUNTRESS: Bingo.

And at that very hide-out, which we ZOOM over to...

EXT. HIDEOUT – EVENING

Silencer hands the ledger off to someone inside a BLACK, THREATENING SUV.

SILENCER: There you are, sir. I expect I’ll have my money in the morning?

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) Of course.

SILENCER: And Nightwing, alias Chester Honeywell?

BLOCKBUSTER: (O.S.) Do as you will with him, just so long as he troubles me no further.

SILENCER: Pleasure doing business with you.

He walks back into the hideout as Blockbuster’s limo speeds off...

INT. HIDEOUT – EVENING

Silencer steps inside to see all his men laid out on the floor. In the spotlight, we see four scalpels that Nightwing removed from himself, the ends still bloody.

SILENCER: Of all the incompetent...

He stops as the MANACLES Nightwing was wearing land in front of him.

NIGHTWING: (O.S.) They did accomplish one thing, Silencer.

Nightwing MELTS out of the shadows, holding an escrima stick in either hand.

NIGHTWING: They warmed me up for you.


Next: Throwdown

 

[wolfsfang]

This is really cool. I would have to put this up there with Batman Begins. If they ever make a Nightwing movie they should seriously think about using this script.

 

[dr venture]

Very good job

 

[Zev]

Silencer smiles, drawing a CYLINDER from his belt.

SILENCER: Very good, “Chester”.

With the flick of a wrist, the cylinder telescopes out into a QUARTERSTAFF.

SILENCER: This is the way I always wanted it.

They do battle. Silencer’s quarterstaff seems to be everywhere, Nightwing blocking at every turn. The hits come as fast as a machine-gun burst on full-auto and for every three blows Nightwing blocks, one slips through. Not helping is the fact that Silencer is in peak physical condition and Nightwing just fought a dozen guys after being tortured. So Nightwing decides to change the rules of the game. He lets Silencer in, a hard blow to his gut that drives the air from his lungs, so he can bring his escrima sticks up under Silencer’s weapon and flip it out of his hands, DISARMING him.

The whole exchange took under a minute. It’s obvious they’re just getting warmed up.

SILENCER: You’re good, kid. If you had more time, you might even be able to beat me. Fortunately, like all the best gamblers, I only bet on a sure thing.

He flips a switch on his belt. Nightwing suddenly crumples to the floor in pain.

SILENCER: What’s that? Not agreeing with the electromagnet I implanted in the back of your neck while you were unconscious? I was going to use it for the grand finale of our little sesson, but necessity is the mother of... you know the rest.

He turns it up a notch. Leans in close. Nightwing is helpless, can’t move a muscle.

SILENCER: Let’s break the silence. Admit I’m better. Let’s hear you say it, just once. I’ll even put you out of your misery if you do. Just... tell the truth and we’ll see what happens, Chester.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) Hey, *******.

Silencer turns around. Huntress has the crossbow aimed square at his chest.

HUNTRESS: His name is Nightwing.

She fires an arrow straight through his lung.

Without hesitation, Silencer yanks it out and stalks towards her.

SILENCER: Here’s the drawback of using crossbows (no pun intended).

He kicks the crossbow out of her hands.

SILENCER: Takes a hell of a long time to reload.

They fight. And Helena catches his fist, suddenly RECOGNIZES him.

HUNTRESS: It was you. You killed them all...

Silencer takes advantage of her confusion to get her in a headlock.

SILENCER: Sounds like something I would do.

He’s strangling the life out of her as Nightwing crawls towards the light. Grabs a scalpel and... oh God... feels around the back of his neck for a scar. Finds one. Digs the scalpel in...

HUNTRESS: You killed my father.

SILENCER: I'm sorry, I don't remember.

HUNTRESS: You don't... REMEMBER?

SILENCER: For you, the day I killed your family was the defining moment of your life. For me, it was Monday.

NIGHTWING: (O.S.) Hey, Silencer...

Silencer turns around just in time to see Nightwing JAM THE SCALPEL INTO HIS GUT. Then Nightwing headbutts the bastard, breaking his nose, and uses the manacles to cuff the unconscious SOB.

NIGHTWING: Shut up.

He helps up Huntress, immediately collapses onto her. They cling to each other, her supporting him as they flee. We linger on Silencer as they leave... and his eyes SNAP OPEN!

EXT. HIDEOUT – EVENING

Some GUARDS approach Barbara’s Hummer.

GUARD 1: You lost, lady?

GUARD 2: She looks lost to me.

BARBARA: I came here looking for my boyfriend. Maybe you’ve seen him?

GUARD 3: So you’re the one who wrote the letter.

GUARD 4: Wonder what he’d want with a cripple?

GUARD 5: Guess we’ll find out.

Barbara, bored, presses a button on the dashboard. KNOCKOUT GAS shoots out of the sides of the Hummer, taking them out. Barbara rolls up the window.

BARBARA: That’ll teach you to mess with a helpless cripple.

INT. HIDEOUT – EVENING

Silencer SNAPS FREE of the manacles, picks up a gun.

INT. AQUADUCT – EVENING

Huntress carries Nightwing towards the exit.

HUNTRESS: You know, I am never going to let you live this down. Big bad Nightwing, saved by a girl...

NIGHTWING: I’ll learn to live with it.

That’s about when Silencer steps out of hiding and shoots Huntress three times in the stomach. She goes down hard. Nightwing is in shock as Silencer aims the pistol at him.

SILENCER: Her death will be quick and relatively painless, but yours is going to be slow and bloody.

He ejects the clip from the pistol and throws it aside.

NIGHTWING: You’re going to regret that for the rest of your life. Both minutes of it.

They rush each other. Silencer knocks the hero back with a hard kick to the face, moves in close to finish him off with some punches. Nightwing ducks under them and chops Silencer in the chest, then tackles him, slamming him against a wall. Silencer bunches his hands together and hammers his fists into Nightwing’s back. Nightwing goes down into a kneeling position and Silencer knees him in the face, sending him flying back. Blood trickles from the reopened wound on Nightwing’s cheek as he picks himself up.

He’s only up to all fours when Silencer rushes him. Nightwing throws himself up into a swinging roundhouse kick, slapping Silencer in the face and knocking the spit out of his mouth. Silencer’s neck cracks. He straightens it.

NIGHTWING: Why won’t you die?

Silencer shrugs.

Nightwing gets up just in time for Silencer to punch him back five feet.

NIGHTWING: That all you got?

Silencer kicks Nightwing. He slides across the floor... right over to the pistol Silencer discarded. He scoops it up and aims at Silencer, who just keeps coming, fearless.

SILENCER: There’s just one round chambered and it’s going to take more than that to kill me.

NIGHTWING: Who said anything about killing you?

With that, he shoots Silencer in the foot. Silencer opens his mouth to scream and Nightwing SHOVES THE ELECTROMAGNET into Silencer’s mouth and CRACKS HIM ONE across the jaw. Through a bit of serenpidious movie magic, this activates the device and, in one intense-as-all-hell BLIPVERY, we get the sense that all the torture Silencer inflicted on Nightwing is being DOWNLOADED BACK INTO HIM IN ONE ALMIGHTY PULSE. Silencer goes rigid, falls backwards hard. Nightwing looks down at his stockstill body.

NIGHTWING: I don’t think we’re going to be hearing from the Silencer anytime soon.

HUNTRESS: (O.S.) Ugh...

Nightwing turns. Huntress has wrapped her midsection with her cape to stem the bleeding.

NIGHTWING: Are you in much pain?

HUNTRESS: Not that... your pun...

He helps her up.

NIGHTWING: Comes with the territory.

They kiss. She even does that breathy thing to let us know it's not JUST a kiss.

HUNTRESS: Careful. Kiss a girl like that too much and she could get to think a man's in love with her.

NIGHTWING: (all smiles) Heaven forfend.

Behind them, SILENCER SITS UP. He pulls a derringer from his belt.

HUNTRESS: Oh, for the love of...

She shoots him in the throat with her crossbow just before he fires. He gags, still alive, and pulls the trigger. The shot goes wild as Silencer slumps to the floor. Huntress limps over to him as Nightwing feels out a bullet hole in the wall next to him. The shot missed.

NIGHTWING: Huntress, let him go. It's over.

HUNTRESS: You're right. It is over.

She jolts the crossbow bolt in deeper, causing a spurt of blood to erupt. Silencer spasms once and dies. Nightwing runs over to him, checks his pulse.

NIGHTWING: You didn't have to do that... THERE WAS NO REASON!

HUNTRESS: REASON!? He killed my family. What better reason could there be?

NIGHTWING: That's exactly the point, Helena. This was your test.

HUNTRESS: I'm through with your tests. All of your tests. I don't want to be Batwoman and I don't want to be Nightlass. I enjoy being the Huntress. And right now... I'm really enjoying watching him die.

Nightwing looks up at her.

NIGHTWING: ...damn you.

Huntress rips the crucifix from her neck and throws it into the spreading pool of blood from Silencer..

HUNTRESS: Happened a long time ago.


Next: Blockbuster

 

[Zev]

INT. APARTMENT – EARLY MORNING

Grayson jerks awake. An alarm clock is going off. It’s the next day and he’s heavily bandaged from the ordeal. Slowly, painfully, he sits up. Takes a bottle of painkillers from the bedside cabinet and dry-swallows a handful. He gets out of bed, begins to peel the bandages off...

BARBARA: (O.S.) What are you doing?

Grayson turns. Barbara looks as if she’s been up all night.

GRAYSON: Going to work.

BARBARA: You have got to be kidding. Even you can’t be this stupid...

GRAYSON: I saw Silencer make the hand-off to Blockbuster. I’ve got to go after the ledger now, before Blockbuster has a chance to hide it away somewhere for good... or destroy it.

BARBARA: You’re in no condition to...

GRAYSON: (interrupting) Babs! There’s no one else.

He picks up his costume and begins pulling it on. The silence between them is deafening.

GRAYSON: You never did tell me why you didn't come with me.

BARBARA: The question is why you didn't stay.

Grayson turns away from her. Walks to the window. Looks out at Bludhaven in all its squalor. We see a split-second FLASHBACK of the Gotham nightscape in its splendor.

GRAYSON: I'm not... pure. Not worthy of the Mission. I'm not good enough. I want to go back, but I can't. Not yet. When I'm the man I know is inside me. A man Bruce can be proud of. But until then, I just have to hope that Bruce will let me come back.

BARBARA: I can't speak for Bruce. But I will always welcome you home.

Grayson puts on his mask.

NIGHTWING: I’ve gotta go. Work. You wanna help, get on your laptop and find Soames.

BARBARA: What are you going to do?

NIGHTWING: Look for him the old-fashioned way.

BARBARA: Pounding the pavement?

NIGHTWING: Something like that.

INT. WALK-IN FREEZER – EARLY MORNING

A gang of THUGS are tied up and hanging from meathooks. Their exhalations are visible in the cold atmosphere. Nightwing walks between them.

NIGHTWING: Class is now in session. This will be an oral exam. I’ll call you by rows so don’t raise your hands.

THUG 1: You son of a...

NIGHTWING: You first, Turk.

He pulls Turk up by his hair.

NIGHTWING: Turk Fremunda, union toughguy. “Who gave the Teamsters the works? Nobody’s business but the Turk’s.” So where’s Dudley Soames?

TURK: Nobody knows, nobody cares.

NIGHTWING: Fine. Be that way. Hang there with your buds and hope for global warming.

He turns to leave. Turk calls out.

TURK: Hold on!

NIGHTWING: Yes?

INT. HIDEAWAY – EARLY MORNING

A small love-nest Soames used to bring his mistress too. Soames sits in a ratty recliner in his boxers and undershirt, waiting for a pot of water on the stove to come to a boil. His gun is at his side. The phone rings.

Picking up a towel, Soames holds it over his mouth to muffle his voice and answers the phone.

SOAMES: Hello?

NIGHTWING: (filtered) Dudley, it’s me.

SOAMES: What the...

NIGHTWING: (filtered) Don’t hang up, just listen. I finally got wise, cut a deal with Blockbuster like you said. The big man’s very disappointed in Redhorn’s disloyalty. He needs a new man in the PD.

Soames pumps his fist in exhilation.

SOAMES: God bless ya, kid.

NIGHTWING: (filtered) Get your ass down to Blockbuster’s, pronto. The boss wants a face-to-face.

Nightwing hangs up. Soames hurriedly starts to get dressed.

EXT. HIDEAWAY – EARLY MORNING

Soames, now dressed again in his trademark trenchcoat, climbs into his car. Panning down, we see NIGHTWING strapped to the undercarriage, a stowaway.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – PARKING LOT – EARLY MORNING

It is nearly dawn.

The car comes to a stop. Soames gets out and walks to the house. The parking lot is on a lower level of the hill; a winding road leads up to the house proper. Some of the house actually extends out over the edge of the hill, supported by large stone PILLARS.

After a moment, reveal Nightwing cutting himself loose from the harness he’s been in. He drops to the pavement below the car and pulls a small hand mirror out from a BAG OF TRICKS slung over his shoulder (okay, okay, it’s a duffel bag, but let’s call it his bag of tricks). Uses it to get a 360-degree view of the area, Jack Bauer-style. Nobody around, except for a fleet of Blockbuster’s SUVs.

Nightwing crawls under the SUVs like a soldier under fire, setting EXPLOSIVE CHARGES under the cars (from the bag of tricks, natch). He stops at the next to last one. Nightwing pops up between them, pressed against the last SUV in the row, and checks around for guard. No one in the immediate vicinity. He presses a button on his mask and NIGHTVISION LENSES descend over the eyeholes.

NIGHTWING’S POV
The nightvision apparently has a magnification function, as we zoom in as if through a telescope on the Townhouse. Plenty of guards patrolling it, lots of spotlights around it, shining around in synchronized patterns.

Nightwing taps his mask again and the nightvision lenses retract. He takes out a small Nightwing-shaped charge and presses it against the window of the SUV he’s against, then hurries off into the darkness.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – HILLTOP – EARLY MORNING

Nightwing crouches behind some bushes and pulls out a RADIO DETONATOR. It’s about the size of a remote control and has several buttons, two of which have RED LIGHTS BEEPING over them.

Nightwing takes the safety off the second button and presses it.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – PARKING LOT – EARLY MORNING

The window of the SUV IMPLODES, starting a CAR ALARM.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – HILLTOP – EARLY MORNING

As Nightwing watches, a detachment of guards runs to check it out.

He takes the safety off the first button...

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Two guards have guns on Soames. One is screwing a silencer onto his pistol. They are preparing to execute him.

SOAMES: C’mon, guys, let’s talk about this? You want money? Women? Men?

GUARD 1: Sorry, Duds. Boss says it’s your time.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – PARKING LOT – EARLY MORNING

All of the cars EXPLODE in unison, the shockwave knocking down every approaching guard.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Soames uses the distraction to grab the nearest guard, uses him as a human shield. The guard takes four shots to the chest from his buddy before Soames draws his .357 Magnum and blows a hole through the fairweather friend’s head.

The man’s body flies backwards through a plate-glass window, making a nifty hole into the townhouse. Soames steps inside.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – HILLTOP – EARLY MORNING

Nightwing rushes the townhouse. A guard on the roof spots him. Nightwing throws a Birdarang at supersonic speed, knocks the guy off his feet.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

The guard falls through a skylight and crashes down into a coffee table. Ouch.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Nightwing hops the safety railing surrounding the townhouse, is made by a guard. He tackles the guard before the man can unsling his rifle. They land next to a spotlight, the rifle clattering away under the railing and falling away. Nightwing and the guard fight, trading blows.

Nightwing takes a blast to the ribs, feels it bad. A spotlight swings towards them, the light silhouetting them. Their fistfight is shadowed onto the clouds long enough for us to see Nightwing’s shadow take out the guard’s shadow with a roundhouse punch.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Soames sneaks through the house, gun at the ready, passing the fallen guard, who moans painfully. Suddenly, the lights blink out.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

The power comes back on. We see now that Nightwing has spray-painted a NIGHTWING LOGO on the spotlight, casting a shadow on the clouds.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Nightwing enters. The place is deserted. Everything is built twice to scale, given the proportions of a giant. It’s reminiscient of all those Silver Age stories where Batman and Robin would fight the Joker on a giant typewriter. Nightwing looks around.

NIGHTWING: Deja voodoo..

He walks forward... as someone approaches from behind him. A shadow falls over Nightwing. He turns around.

NIGHTWING: Roland Desmond, I presume?

BLOCKBUSTER is a behemoth. His mass is sheerly Mephistophelean. His cranium is distended and hairless, his skin white. He easily towers over Nightwing.

BLOCKBUSTER: My name is Blockbuster. Be afraid.

NIGHTWING: Why? You’re not that ugly. Look, Rollie, we don’t have to dance this dance.

BLOCKBUSTER: You expect me to go meekly?

NIGHTWING: Just hand over the ledger and I’LL go... however you want me to.

BLOCKBUSTER: Bleeding profusely and screaming in pain.

NIGHTWING: Sorry, that’s not on the agenda.

He reaches into his bag of tricks and pulls out... a very simple BRICK, which he lobs into Blockbuster’s oversized head. It bounces right off.

NIGHTWING: (that should have worked) I’m no genius, but...

BLOCKBUSTER: Well I am! That was the bargain I made!

NIGHTWING: You mean you weren’t always this smart? There’s a scary thought.

BLOCKBUSTER: Don’t mock me!

He brings his fists down where Nightwing was standing... was, because Nightwing just jumped onto a double-sized couch. Blockbuster’s gargantuan fist thunders towards Nightwing, who jumps over it. The blow sinks into a seat cushion and Nightwing lands on Blockbuster’s outstretched arm, snap-kicks him twice in the face. With his other hand, Blockbuster SWATS Nightwing away. Nightwing grabs onto a hanging chandelier and swings from it, arresting his descent.

BLOCKBUSTER: For years I possessed all the strength you see before you with the brain of an infant! Then a devil named Trigon bought my soul for the price of one wish. He told me I could wish for anything I wanted! Any one thing!

Nightwing lets go of the swinging chandelier, dropkicking Blockbuster in the chest. Blockbuster lets out a mild “oof”, but is otherwise unmoved. He scoops Nightwing up before the hero can hit the floor and throws him against the floor-to-ceiling windows. The windows crack, but hold, and Nightwing rebounds into the ground.

BLOCKBUSTER: And, in my neolithic haze... through a cloud of brutish, half-witted ignorance... the ugly, twisted, hideous Blockbuster wished, of all things, not for beauty, not for grace, but simply to be SMARTER!

Blockbuster throws a massive punch which Nightwing dodges. The window is shattered and the wind whistles in.

NIGHTWING: I think you may have gotten gypped.

Blockbuster grabs the windowframe and RIPS THE ENTIRE WINDOW WALL OUT, sending it towards Nightwing like a cracking whip. Nightwing runs.

BLOCKBUSTER: Don’t you think I know that now? How could I have done otherwise with my little brain? That’s what Trigon was counting on! That’s the curse I’ll have to live with forever! I didn’t really want to be smart and ugly! I wanted to be normal! NORMAL!

The windowframe falls apart in Blockbuster’s hands and Nightwing draws a SPECIAL BIRDARANG. He presses a button on it and barbs spring out the end. Then he pulls out an extendible cord from the Birdarang and plugs it into his suit.

NIGHTWING: You are normal. Hateful, power-hungry, and ignorant.

He throws the Birdarang into Blockbuster’s chest, where it sticks like a burr. Nightwing WHISTLES and the one-shot taser charge in Nightwing’s suit travels through the cord and into Blockbuster, electrocuting him!

Blockbuster shrugs it off, grabbing the cord and SWINGING Nightwing by it. Nightwing sideswipes through a wall filled with embiggened paintings and hits a pillar, wrapping around it. He belatedly disconnects the cord.

BLOCKBUSTER: Bludhaven is mine! And after I’m done scraping you off my knuckles, I can still take comfort in my surroundings...

Nightwing gets an idea. He pulls himself up the pillar to a standing position.

NIGHTWING: So you have Bludhaven. Big deal. This is a tanktown, Desmond. Second-rate. You amped your IQ up to super genius and this is the best you can do? Lame. You may think you’re the Einstein of Crime, but you’re still just a cheap hood.

Enraged, Blockbuster charges. Nightwing jumps out of the way at the last minute and the enemy bull-rushes through the pillar, blasting it into powder. Nightwing tucks and rolls, comes up, fires a handful of Birdarangs into Blockbuster’s chest. They might as well be sewing needles.

Blockbuster hurls a DESK at Nightwing, who ducks under it. Nonetheless, the oversized desk wings him. Nightwing kisses the floor. Before he knows it, Blockbuster is on top of him, picking him up by the throat (his entire neck fits between Blockbuster’s thumb and forefinger) and slamming him against the wall. Begins CHOKING HIM.

BLOCKBUSTER: Like Caesar in Hispania, Bludhaven is only the infancy of my ambitions. From these humble beginnings, I will build an empire. Bludhaven. Gotham. Star City. Metropolis. New York. All will fall under my control. You pose a quandary for me. To snap your neck like straw... or starve your brain of enough oxygen to leave you a gibbering idiot for the rest of your misbegotten life.

SOAMES: (O.S.) Let me take that decision off your hands.

Blockbuster turns. Soames has his large-bore revolver trained on Blockbuster, the LEDGER in his other hand.

BLOCKBUSTER: You show a lot of nerve, Dudley. The sort of nerve I do not admire.

SOAMES: I’m thinking we’re past the friendly stage of our relationship, “sir.” Nearly being murdered by your goons has soured me. Has this Nightwing character got you that spooked? I thought you’d cover me, get me out of the ‘Haven.

BLOCKBUSTER: I feared the interest of the Batman. As it turns out, this knight errant is just as dangerous. But he can only tie me to illegalities through you. A living, breathing you.

SOAMES: Screw that.

He fires. The first shot enters and exits Blockbuster’s chest. Blockbuster releases Nightwing and explodes into motion towards Soames. Nightwing gasps in air. A shot glances into Blockbuster’s arm, another scrapes his head, a fourth takes him in the knee, causing him to limp as the fifth blasts another hole through his chest. That’s all Soames gets out before Blockbuster reaches him and TWISTS HIS NECK ALL THE WAY AROUND.

Nightwing crawls towards the fallen gun as fast as he can. Blockbuster stops him, picking him up and throwing him down again so hard he cracks the floor.

BLOCKBUSTER: You can’t win, hero. I have home field advantage. We’re on my turf, in the special place I had made just for me. The one place I can be in control, where I can be... normal.

He sees his rampage has destroyed the house.

BLOCKBUSTER: You did this on purpose.

NIGHTWING: And I didn’t even need to sell my soul to “Trigon” to think it up.

BLOCKBUSTER: You made me big again! Big enough to kill you!

Bunching his hands together, he raises them high over his head. He brings his fists down and Nightwing rolls out of the way. He was playng possum! Drawing a Birdarang, he slices it across Blockbuster’s face, opening up a cut over his eyes. The floor where Blockbuster struck collapses and Nightwing falls through, down to...

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – HILLTOP – EARLY MORNING

The house is built on a slope, so to remain level, it has a series of SUPPORT BEAMS sticking up from the ground and into the underside of the house. Nightwing falls a good ten feet, hits the ground, and tumbles down towards the LEDGE. Below that, nothing but a couple hundred feet of air and a big SPLAT at the end.

Nightwing tries to bleed off some of his speed, crashing into a support. For his trouble, he gets a broken rib. He topples over the edge, hangs onto it by his fingertips. Slowly, painfully, he begins to pull himself back up...

As Blockbuster leaps from through the freshly-expanded hole!

Nightwing draws his escrima sticks.

NIGHTWING: The bigger they are...

He lunges at Blockbuster, using the only advantage he has... the terrain. Blockbuster’s movements are restricted due to the close quarters provided by the support columns. Nightwing darts in between them, striking and hunting cover, while Blockbuster tears through the pillars like a juggernaut.

Finally, Nightwing brings his escrima sticks together like cymbals on Blockbuster’s head. They both CRACK.

NIGHTWING: Son of a ****e!

Blockbuster punches him through a support column.

And this has got to be it, because when Nightwing hits the ground, he ain’t moving. Covered in dust from the obliterated pillar, he watches as Blockbuster approaches him.

BLOCKBUSTER: In Bludhaven, the bad guys always win!

Nightwing scoops up a handful of dust and THROWS IT IN BLOCKBUSTER’S FACE, blinding him! Then Nightwing picks up a large piece of debris, about the size of a cinderblock, lunges at Blockbuster...

And breaks it over his head.

Blockbuster falls with a noise like an earthquake.

NIGHTWING: If that’s what you call a win, I’d hate to see what a loss looks like.

Exhausted, Nightwing throws a de-cel line up to the townhouse and starts to climb up. He’s almost to the top when Blockbuster GRABS HIS FOOT.

NIGHTWING: Doesn’t anyone lose consciousness in this town but me?

He struggles against Blockbuster, grabbing the lip of the hole and pulling himself up. Blockbuster pulls back and for a second it looks like it could go either way. Then, inexorably, Nightwing begins to be dragged down. He reaches out, stretches... and we see the object of his desire. SOAMES’ GUN. Still has a bullet in the chamber. Nightwing reaches, strains with all his might... until his arm is nearly wrenched out of the socket... his finger just touches the trigger guard... then he kicks down with his other foot, hitting Blockbuster’s hand and buying him a few more centimeters. He grabs the gun.

NIGHTWING: See the ground down there? He’s your new friend. You go meet him up close and personal.

He swings the gun down and FIRES into Blockbuster’s hand, blasting a hole clean through the giant’s palm.

Blockbuster falls back, HOWLING in pain.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

Pulling himself into the townhouse, Nightwing quick-draws a Birdarang and mercilessly throws it up to CUT THE CHANDELIER FREE. The chandelier falls, scraping through the hole with a sound of breaking glass and crashing square into Blockbuster, who takes a tumble right through a support column on his way down.

And that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The whole townhouse begins to sway and creak, a giant CRACK running through the center of the house. Nightwing looks around as debris starts to fall and dust starts to swirl..

NIGHTWING: Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

Limping over to Soames’ body, he grabs the ledger and starts to run for the door. The house is falling apart around him. Below, every support column left snaps like a toothpick and HALF THE DAMN HOUSE collapses.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – HILLTOP – EARLY MORNING

Blockbuster looks up as his sanctuary comes rushing down to meet him.

BLOCKBUSTER: Damn you, Nightwing!

He’s crushed like the Wicked Witch of the East.

INT. TOWNHOUSE – EARLY MORNING

The entire damn place is SLIDING DOWN THE SLOPE. Up ahead, the front door, fortunately left open by whoever’s fled the place.

Nightwing sprints for it, zig-zagging to dodge boulder-sized pieces of debris.

He almost makes it.

A falling support beam hits him in the back, pinning him underneath just a few feet from the door. Nightwing strains, but he’s not going anywhere.


Next: Loose Ends

 

[Zev]

With a defeated sigh, he throws the ledger through the door to safe ground.

And suddenly a dark spectre is beside him, lifting the beam off him with unfathomable strength.

BATMAN.

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – DAWN

Nightwing, holding the ledger, and Batman watch the house fall off the cliff. It makes an impressive crash against the ground below.

NIGHTWING: I still can’t believe I did it. So much of it was sheer luck...

BATMAN: Not luck. Skill. I taught you well. (beat) Who killed Silencer?

Nightwing pauses.

NIGHTWING: It was me. I had no choice. It was him or us.

Batman nods almost imperceptibly.

BATMAN: Alright.

NIGHTWING: Is that all you can say?

BATMAN: What else is there to say?

Nightwing starts to leave. What’s the use? Then he turns back. He’s got to try.

NIGHTWING: Look, one of us needs to say this and it looks like it has to be me. You molded me and taught me, Bruce. For years I lived under the shadow of you... under the shadow of the Batman. I wanted to get away, to be my own man. But look at me. When I chose a costume and a name, they reflected you. You’re a part of me, Bruce. I can’t deny it and I don’t want to any longer. I just wanted you to know that. That, and one other thing. It was an honor being Robin.

He turns to go. He’ll never know how Batman feels about him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s made his decision and he feels good about it. Behind him, Batman has a slight smile.

BATMAN: The honor was mine.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – NOON

Helena is laid up in a hospital bed as Nightwing enters through the window.

HELENA: Did we do it? Did we win?

NIGHTWING: Yeah. We won. I’m going to send copies of the ledger to Tana Moon, Clark Kent, every other reporter I can think of. The whole thing’s going to be blown wide open.

HELENA: Batman came by. He asked me who killed Silencer. I told him to ask you.

NIGHTWING: I told him... I told him it was me.

HELENA: Thanks for...

NIGHTWING: Don't. Just... don't. Bludhaven is mine. I want you to get out... permanently

HELENA: But before...

NIGHTWING: Forget what I said. Forget what we did. It was a mistake.

HELENA: (vulnerable) I thought you understood.

NIGHTWING: I do understand. But that doesn't mean I can condone what you do.

Helena responds passionately.

HELENA: How can you not? Look at this town. How can you play the white knight? How long can you stick to your "code"?

NIGHTWING: As long as it takes.

HELENA: And if you fail? And you will fail.

NIGHTWING: Then I fail, Helena. But I won't let them win by becoming one of them.

HELENA: You have to play by their rules to defeat them.

Helena looks at her with surprising sadness.

NIGHTWING: I was just getting used to wondering what a life with you in it would be like. Now it's an "if I knew then what I know now" situation.

HELENA: And if you knew then?

NIGHTWING: I wouldn't have come within ten city blocks of you. All of us; Batman, Robin, me. We're driven by one tragic turning point in our lives. So are you. But yours is darker, uglier. I can't fix it. I wish I could, but I can't even reach it. And I won't be part of it. You hold it deep inside you. You hide it from everyone but yourself. That's why you say you want justice when you really want revenge.

HELENA: What's the difference, Dick? Honestly?

NIGHTWING: You really don't know, do you?

HELENA: So that's it then.

NIGHTWING: That's it.

HELENA: I see. Then answer me one question. Is it because I'm not enough like Batman? Or because I'm too much like him?

NIGHTWING: ...leave town. Or I come after you next.

He walks over to the window.

HELENA: Coward.

Nightwing spares Helena one last look, full of longing and regret.

NIGHTWING: Weakling.

He throws out a de-cel line.

HELENA: Dick!

Nightwing doesn’t look back.

HELENA: By sundown?

Nightwing swings away.

INT. APARTMENT – AFTERNOON

Grayson pages through the ledger, making copies with a handheld scanner. It’s long, tedious work. He comes to the last entry on the last page.

Bruce Wayne.

Storming out of his apartment, he goes to the next one over. Barges in.

INT. BARBARA’S APARTMENT – AFTERNOON

Bruce is just saying goodbye to Barbara.

BRUCE: Oh, hello...

Grayson punches him up.

GRAYSON: You son of a *****, you set it up! You set it up!

BARBARA: Dick, what are you talking about? Have you gone mental!?

GRAYSON: He set up the hit on the Bertinellis.

BRUCE: They controlled the drug trade going into Gotham, I had to stop it. But there's only so much one man can do. So I played the families against each other. Did I foresee a hit against civilians? No. But compare the few lives lost to the thousands that would have suffered if the Bertinelli family was allowed to continue operating.

He places a consoling hand on Grayson's shoulder.

BRUCE: Dick... the Bertinellis were not good people.

Grayson pushes his arm away.

GRAYSON: I'm not that good a person myself, Bruce.

As he walks away...

BRUCE: It was necessary, Dick! We're in a war!

INT. APARTMENT – AFTERNOON

Grayson stares at his computer. The e-mail to Tana Moon, dozens of news organizations Cced. Attached, the scans of the ledger. His finger hovers over the send button.

SOAMES: (V.O.) Bertinelli laid the groundwork for much, much more; stuff that stretches beyond this petty burg. You think this is about a few crooked cops? If that book gets out, it could ruin judges, senators, masters of industry. The entire country would be thrown into chaos. The American people would lose faith in their government. It'd be the LA riots all over again. New Orleans times a thousand. And cops, cops like us, would be the collaterial damage.

GRAYSON: **** it.

He sends the e-mail. It’s like a weight off his chest. He watches as it uploads over and over again...

BARBARA: (O.S.) Knock knock.

Grayson turns around. Barbara is in the doorway.

GRAYSON: Hey.

BARBARA: Hey. (beat) So, how are... things?

GRAYSON: Well, I had to dump my girlfriend because she’s a psychopath, ditto for the closest thing I have to a father, and then there’s the little matter of the woman I love not loving me back.

And there it is, right out in the open.

BARBARA: Dick... there’s so much I want to say, but I don’t know how to say it and this might not be the best time anyway, times being what they are...

GRAYSON: Times are always “what they are.”

He turns to look out the window.

GRAYSON: It’ll take a day for the newsies to confirm the story, check with their sources. When this comes out tomorrow, Bludhaven will be a different city. There’ll be riots, arrests... Nightwing will be needed more than ever. It won’t be safe for you here.

BARBARA: You don’t have to be alone.

GRAYSON: Maybe I do. Maybe Bruce was right.

BARBARA: And if you start acting like him, how long until you become him?

Grayson turns back to look at her, framed in the light shining through the window.

GRAYSON: I’ll never be like him. Oh, before I forget...

He walks over to his dresser, pulls out a small giftbox.

GRAYSON: Catch.

He throws it to Barbara. She opens it. Inside is a small NIGHTWING PLUSHIE DOLL.

GRAYSON: Happy birthday. Guess you’ll want to be adding that to the collection.

BARBARA: (choked up) Guess so.

She hugs him. Only comes up to his midsection. He hugs her back anyway, not caring how awkward it looks.

BARBARA: Watch your back, former boy wonder.

GRAYSON: Happy hacking... girl wonder.

BARBARA: Don’t you mean former...

GRAYSON: No. To me, you’ll always be...

BARBARA: Don’t say it.

She leaves. Grayson watches her as she shuts the door behind her. Friends and nothing more, no matter how much he wants it to be different. After a moment of anxious brooding, there’s a knock at the door. Grayson walks over to it...

GRAYSON: Clancy, I promise you, I’ll have the rent by...

It’s Barbara.

BARBARA: Running around on me, huh? Who’s this Clancy?

GRAYSON: Barbara... forget your keys?

She grabs him by the necktie, pulls him down to her level.

BARBARA: Stupid boy shut up now.

Now comes the kiss we’ve been waiting for, the kiss that blows away all the **** that’s formed on their relationship, all the years of pain and misery, everything but their love for each other.

And Grayson knows her well enough to know that saying “I love you” would be too cliched right now, so he just whispers it into her ear as he lifts her out of her wheelchair and carries her into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.

A perfect ending... until Clancy pokes her head out of the stairwell and sees the wheelchair lying abandoned by the door.

CLANCY: A sock would’ve done just as well.

THE END

EXCEPT NOT QUITE

EXT. TOWNHOUSE – DAY

A group of cops and CSI boys investigate the wreckage. One comes across Soames’ body.

COP: Medical examiner’s got a no-brainer here. Cause of death? Somebody mistook Soames’ head for a bottlecap.

And that’s when Soames SITS UP, his head on BACKWARDS.

SOAMES: GRAYSON!

REALLY THE END

 

[C-$]

I'm writing a Nightwing movie, hopefully my script will be just as good as yours.