“Fingers crossed, Alfred.”
Nightwing piloted the stealth aircraft that could get as close to being invisible without actually doing so. The turbines silently churned, propelling the craft at breakneck speeds over Gotham City, cutting through the seemingly never-ending fog that clung to the outskirts.
He had learned to fly when he was 14 years-old. Other kids were just dreaming of driving a car in a few years. He knew he had lived a fairly different life than other normal kids, but he had never felt privileged.
“Have faith, Master Dick,” Alfred Pennyworth said from back in the Batcave. “The call has gone out. Help will arrive.”
Nightwing trusted their faithful butler. If he said the plan would work, then it would. The man knew more about crime-fighting than most seasoned police veterans. And his crab cakes were fantastic, too.
Privileged? Nightwing thought. Maybe just a little.
He would have rather taken the motorcycle into the city to back-up Batman, who was currently incommunicado along with Robin, but his busted leg meant he wouldn’t be able to ride safely. The Batwing would get him there faster in any event, and he felt in his gut that time was of the essence.
He checked his altimeter and started planning his descent. He would need to wait until the right moment and stick to Alfred’s plan, but it would be difficult for him to just sit still until then.
Also on the dashboard was a pulsing digital display, indicating the call to action that Alfred had issued before leaving the cave. It was a new coded signal, a special frequency that used technology that was completely secure. A truly scrambled message that not even the brightest minds at the Pentagon would be able to crack.
In their world, a world of secret identities and clandestine communication, this new Batwave technology could be a real game changer.
He just hoped that Alfred was right, and someone was listening to their call for help.
Nightwing piloted the stealth aircraft that could get as close to being invisible without actually doing so. The turbines silently churned, propelling the craft at breakneck speeds over Gotham City, cutting through the seemingly never-ending fog that clung to the outskirts.
He had learned to fly when he was 14 years-old. Other kids were just dreaming of driving a car in a few years. He knew he had lived a fairly different life than other normal kids, but he had never felt privileged.
“Have faith, Master Dick,” Alfred Pennyworth said from back in the Batcave. “The call has gone out. Help will arrive.”
Nightwing trusted their faithful butler. If he said the plan would work, then it would. The man knew more about crime-fighting than most seasoned police veterans. And his crab cakes were fantastic, too.
Privileged? Nightwing thought. Maybe just a little.
He would have rather taken the motorcycle into the city to back-up Batman, who was currently incommunicado along with Robin, but his busted leg meant he wouldn’t be able to ride safely. The Batwing would get him there faster in any event, and he felt in his gut that time was of the essence.
He checked his altimeter and started planning his descent. He would need to wait until the right moment and stick to Alfred’s plan, but it would be difficult for him to just sit still until then.
Also on the dashboard was a pulsing digital display, indicating the call to action that Alfred had issued before leaving the cave. It was a new coded signal, a special frequency that used technology that was completely secure. A truly scrambled message that not even the brightest minds at the Pentagon would be able to crack.
In their world, a world of secret identities and clandestine communication, this new Batwave technology could be a real game changer.
He just hoped that Alfred was right, and someone was listening to their call for help.
ISSUE #8 (April 2023)
Written by D. Golightly Featuring: Batman
Robin
Catwoman
Nightwing
Doctor Death
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"Hospital of Pain - Part Four"
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