A/N: Welcome back, fair readers. Polemarch speaking, yes, you can't believe it, it's an update within two months of the last! We told you we hadn't abandoned this fic, and we meant it. More coming soon; I have Chapter 7 and 9 partially written and I know Toblerone is slogging her way through 6 and 8, possibly as we speak! So hang on and keep those revews coming (especially for Toblerone's chapters. She needs the ego boost.)

Chapter 5

Secret Agent Man

Okay. This is a standard infiltration. I'm across the street from the objective, roughly 60 feet from the roof. As far as I can tell, no one notices me yet. Time to sweep for traps, alarms, etc. I take my thermal goggles from my belt and slip them on over my mask, switching them on as I do so. The world goes black and white, white for hot and black for cold. I take a good look at the roof. A light near a staircase glows white. Some air conditioning units alternate white and black, for different areas of cooling, and an electrical transformer practically shines out in the night. I'm looking for my way in, an air vent that exhausts hot and stale air to the surrounding atmosphere... There it is. A plume of white over a grid of black in the center of the roof. Now, other traps...right, thermal goggles show me thin lines of white in front of the door, around the transformer, and by the AC units. Weird. Who the hell puts a laser grid around air conditioning?

Anyway, the roof of the stairway down looks clear. I switch the goggles in to EM mode, where they display electric and magnetic fields in varying shades of blue and white. I actually can take credit for having this feature; I saw it in a spy video game on one of my few days off and I then went out and looked up to see if that technology was really possible. It wasn't, at the time, and so I talked to Bruce and he put the Wanyetech R&D department on it. It took them 3 months to come up with something, which is actually less of an optical device like the thermals and more of a kind of radar. Either way, it works, and I've actually contributed something to the Bat-Family's gear that Batman hadn't already thought of. Bruce gave me one of his rare half-smiles (Cass calls them Bat-Grins because they appear suddenly, surprise you, and then disappear before you know what's happened).

Anyway, the goggles are showing me pretty much the entire electrical grid on the top two floors of that building. On the roof, I can see the power to the lights and laser grids, all of the communications equipment, and then, most importantly, what looks like cameras. Ok, so what are the holes I can exploit? Camera doesn't appear to cover the air vents. Check. Lasers cover the ladders, the doors, and the machinery. So I need to avoid them on the way down. Best bet: land on top of the staircase shack.

Readying myself, I locate an appropriate nearby building to act as a pivot and base for my grapple and I fire the grapple gun. I back up and give the line a quick tug to make sure it's secure. The way it's designed, if it isn't dislodged with a pull, it won't get dislodged. Some weird force-amplifying effect in the design. I don't entirely understand the physics behind it. Seems to be in order, though. Gauging the angle, I break into a sprint, and with one foot up on the ledge, leap into space.

This is one of the most exhilarating parts of the job, the swinging from building to building. One of the more dangerous, since any failure in equipment will doom you, but that only adds to the excitement. In the past, I've suited up and brought extra line along just so I could get my exercise for the day in a more entertaining way, running on roofs and jumping the gaps, instead of hitting a treadmill or doing push-ups or something. Not that those don't have their place, of course, but this is so much more entertaining. It's the second-closest I can get to unaided human flight (closest being cape-gliding). If only all those super-people knew how much I envied them. While each jump is a thrilling moment for me, it is, alas, a short lived pleasure.

Which is why one really has to pay attention while roof-swinging—a wrong move, and you either end up hanging in midair with no momentum (if you're lucky), smashed against the side of a building (if you're not) or pavement pizza (in which case you may not have to worry about luck any more). My momentum picks up. I see the roof approaching. Coming in, careful not to roll off the other end of the roof…nice. Stuck the landing. The (nonexistent) crowd goes wild. I get a 10 from all the (imaginary) judges.

Ok, on the roof of the stair shack. I see the door, and with thermals, the lasers. Lasers are easy enough to avoid if you can see them; the camera is the problem. I can enter the vents without the camera seeing, but getting from here to there unseen will be interesting. Looking around, I notice a small gutter along the roof of the shed for collecting rainwater. How do I get over there without attracting attention?

I have an idea. I pull out my bo staff and push the button to extend it. The bo is adjustable in length and detachable; one push of the extension switch snaps it to five feet long, another push brings it out to a whole seven, and the push of another button and a twist separates it into two sections. I test the gutter first with the staff, and then with my boot, and it seems pretty solid. Good. Pressing the button a second time, I take the whole seven foot staff, back up as far as the shack will let me, get a good grip, plant the bo in the gutter and launch myself as far forward as I can. I immediately retract the staff as soon as I feel it leave the gutter behind me so it doesn't trip the lasers. I fly though the air, completely clear the lasers and the AC unit, and land crouched next to the vent. Nice. A perfect short pole vault, if I do say so myself. I should really do this kind of thing competitively—though on second thought they probably wouldn't let me compete in a mask. Oh well.

I completely collapse my bo and put it back on my belt. Then, examining the vent, I switch back into EM mode on the goggles to ensure it isn't electrified or alarmed. It isn't. Guess they didn't think of everything, despite the lasers on the AC (I can't seem to get over that, can I?). Time to head down.

I have a small electric drill/screwdriver on my belt, and so the screws holding the vent on are short work. Then, I reach into the now gaping hole in the roof and drill small holes through the metal lining and into the concrete ceiling on either side of the vent. I take out my concrete wall-hooks and clamp them in the holes, then attach the cord to the hooks and to my harness. I toss the rest down the hole. Double and triple-checking my gear, I brace myself and carefully lower myself into the inky black abyss.

Gradually putting my weight onto the harness, I hear the rope and the clamps squeak and creak, but no snaps, cracks or pops (Rappelling gear should never sound like Rice Crispies). Sounds good. Mentally double checking the plans, I snap on my thermals and begin my descent. Main server room is located on the 15th floor, smack dab in the center of the building, and is likely the largest source of heat in this part of the ventilation system at this time of night. Therefore, all I have to do is drop 15 floors and then follow the warm air in my thermal goggles. See? Navigation in total darkness made simple.

I let myself drop, feeling the heat from the friction of the rope sliding through my gloves. 1 floor. 2 floors. 5 floors. 10. 13... slow down now... 14 floors... 15. Swiveling around, I decide that one of the vents to my right exhibits the strongest glow. I softly swing myself towards the duct, back and forth until I get enough momentum to grab the edge, and get myself seated there. Confident I won't be continuing my drop into the deeper reaches of the building, I detach the line from my harness and use a magnet to stick it to the wall so I can reach it later. Into the vents.

I crawl on my hands and knees through the system, cape shuffling softly along the side in the darkness and stale air. After about 10 minutes of crawling, shuffling, and turning, I arrive at a vent facing down. I switch into conventional night vision mode. Monitors and blinking lights. We have a winner. Out comes the electric screwdriver again, and unscrewing with one hand and keeping the grate from falling with the other, I gain entrance.

With a soft thump, I drop into the server room and crouch down to gain my bearings. I slide my goggles up onto my forehead; a soft glow of status lights and monitors reaches my eyes, the overhead lights dark. The room is very large, and floor-to-ceiling computer cabinets stretch in either direction. There are no cameras here, probably because the designers didn't expect any intruders to get this far in the first place and (I suspect/hope) partially because they didn't want the security guards seeing what they were doing on these computers.

I walk up to a machine and turn the monitor on. Ok, login screen. Looks like a pretty secure rig. Hacking it myself might take hours. Luckily, I have very best computer scientist and hacker in the world on call, 24 hours a day. Well, at least when she isn't trying to kill me over my last comment about Nightwing. I tap my ear piece.

"O, this is R, I've reached objective alpha. Ready to support?"

"Hey R. Early start, I see. Pulling up software now." I hear the soft tapping of keys and whirring of computer fans over the connection.

"You have physical access?"

"Yep. Sitting right smack in the middle of a forest of high-power commercial rigs. Walk me through."

"Ok, you're gonna need root access, and most of the desktop boxes are probably workstations with no privileges. Find a terminal hooked to one of the big racks. Usually there's only a few of them, and they all give full access, provided you can bypass security."

"Got it, O." I walk around for a minute or so, and eventually stumble across a suspect machine.

"Right, here we are."

"Ok, pop out your eye-triple-ee-thirteen-thirty-four connection in your mini comp and see if you can't plug us in."

"Six or four pins?"

"Six. You think you can brute force something with only four?"

"yeah, yeah, I know, you and your bandwidth..." Yes. We are huge computer nerds and we have no shame. I reach over to the box itself and find just such a connection. I plug in and connect my mini-pc to my comms transmitter.

"Ok, O, we're on the air."

"Got it." I watch as the All-Seeing Oracle, from miles away in another city, slowly but surely invades and takes control of the 'enemy' server. After a couple of minutes of mumbling under her breath through the radio and my going over the building plans again on my mini-pc, a small welcome screen appears.

"Huh. Weird user/pass," Babs comments.

"Whaddya mean?"

"username is C-O-X-I-I-I-C-O-R-P-S, password is R-U-B-I-C-O-N"

"huh." I wonder what that says about the administrator. Rubicon? As in the river in Italy? Crossing the Rubicon means going past the point of no return…this does not bode well.

"Yeah. Ok, into the network. Whatcha looking for?"

"Anything suspicious, really. This place has apparently become something of a hot spot among two bit thugs, which is weird because usually they avoid the business district like the plague. Y'know, it's like the only place the cops really work."

"'Haven PD has got to be better than that. I mean, Dick never..."

"Hey, I mean no offense to old shortpants. Your sweet baboo never did anything wrong," I say with a grin. I know that she isn't going to respond to that, because she knows if she did, it would openly confirm to me what everyone knows anyway; that she still, after all these years, really cares for one Mr. Richard Grayson, despite whatever fits she might throw in public. I sometimes wish they'd finally just be done with it, one way or the other, but then I'd have nothing to rib them about. And that would be a terrible tragedy.

Or maybe she will confirm it. I can hear the indignation in her voice as she responds, even through the computer distortion. "Hey, I don't poke your soft spots. You want my help or not? I've got about 15 other cases with just as much urgency here, and you try explaining to Superman that the reason that you haven't hacked Lex Luthor's network yet was because you were trading insults with Robin."

"Alright, alright I was just playing around, jeeze we're sensitive."

I hear an exaggerated sigh. "Ok, I'm reading three big encrypts, two secured intranets, and a crapload of unidentified executables." In layman's terms, that's three large files which are encoded, two networks that only this company can access, and a lot of programs that we've never seen before. I consider my response.

"Well, forget the executables, since they probably require resources that only exist on these networks. Probably best to plant backdoors in their intranets, though, in case we need 'em later. They'd take too much time to search now. How tight is the encryption on the other three, O?"

"Um." I can almost see her rubbing the bridge of her nose in thought. "This might take a while. The titles look like random letters and numerals and so I don't have any language to go on, and I also don't know what kind of files they're supposed to be when they come out…weird."

"What's up?"

"Well, I think I've gotten past the encryption but it's just giving me more lines of gibberish. It could be that they encrypted it more than once, or they used a one-time pad. If it's just layered encryption, I should be able to break it given enough time. But if it's a one-time pad…" I grimace. One-time pads are large pads of paper (or computer files, nowadays) completely filled with letters in random order, and they're produced in matching sets.

"Yeah, I know, it'd be mathematically unbreakable unless you have a pad identical to the one used to encrypt it. OK, time for Plan B then." I reply.

"I always hated Plan B's."

"If you think they're bad you should see my Plans C and D."

"I shudder to think. Anyway, Robin, you need anything else? I've got Bats on line 2, and Booster Gold and Blue Beetle want me to settle a trivia question for them."

"Haven't they ever heard of the internet? But no, I'm good for now."

"Hey, call me if you need me. I'll be here all night."

"You always are. Robin, out."

OK, time to move on. This encryption business worries me slightly. It could be that they're just paranoid, but that also means that they have something to hide. The other thing that occurs to me is that the files—hell, the whole network—are just a whole lot of misdirection designed to throw off an investigator like me. But that would imply that they were expecting someone to come along. In that case, then, this could be one big trap. They haven't sprung it yet, though, so I'm still holding out hope for general paranoia.

I pack up my mini-comp…and none too soon, it appears. There are heavy footsteps coming down the hallway outside the server-room. Security patrols? Late night workers? Janitors? Doesn't matter, no time. I spend five seconds snapping the vent cover back onto the ceiling so it isn't suspicious and then I bolt, running as quickly and quietly as I can to the door on the opposite side of the room. Damn, maglocked! I tear the new piece of gear I programmed this morning off of my belt and place the business end up against the wall. I move it around until one of the lights on the side, a red one, lights up, which means that it's found live wires inside the wall. I jam on the unlock button, my heart pounding, and the next light, a yellow one, begins flashing, which means it's trying to cut the circuit. FASTER! Looking behind me I can see a silhouette in the other door's frosted glass. Yellow, yellow, yellow…Green!

I whip the door open as I hear the people on the other end fiddling with the keypad on the lock and throw myself through the door, taking my device with me and closing the door as quickly as I can without slamming it. I take a second to breathe. Damn, that was close. Ok, well the good news is, if that was their idea of a trap, then this should be easier than I thought. I somehow doubt it.

On to the next step: President's office. I work my way down the hallways carefully, using my plans to make sure I don't stumble into any areas covered by security cameras. I snap my goggles back down and put them in EM mode just in case they've made any recent modifications, but nothing so far.

Five flights of stairs and three darkened hallways later, I finally get myself in front of the Prez's office. Sigh. More locks; magnetic and conventional. And an alarm panel. What I wouldn't give for the freedom to whip out the primacord and just blow the door out of its frame. Oh well. I get out my maglock pick (as I've just dubbed it), a roll of duct tape, and my lockpick set. I use the maglock pick to find the lock and alarm wires, and then tape it to the wall as it works on disabling them (Oh how I love duct tape…and mine even has little yellow R's printed on it). I'm gonna have to leave it out here when I enter the room, so that the alarm stays off, and so the tape comes in handy. It cuts out the alarm system and I go to work on the regular lock. After some work it clicks open and I'm in.

I enter the room, and my mind shifts into "detective mode." A desk, big windows, couches. Armchair. Large office. Very clean desk; not even a nametag of a picture, just a pair of pens and a blotter. Large mirror on one wall—is our prez an egotist? Carpeted floor; need to remember to clear footprints when I leave. I move slowly over to the desk, observing as I go. Something about this place is off. I have a certain suspicion…I move behind the desk and slide the wheeled leather armchair out of the way.

My suspicion is confirmed. This side of the desk is spotless; as if it had never been used. Even the best-cared for chairs and desks would show some signs of wear; this looks as if they'd just bought it. I open one of the unlocked drawers. Empty. I switch into EM mode on my goggles, sure this has to be some sort of trap, but no, the desk isn't wired. The top drawer is locked, so maybe I'll have better luck there, and I pull my picks out again. It clicks open. Huh. Some pens and office supplies… that look completely unused…and a book filled with gibberish. Could this be our one-time pad? Worth a try. I snag it and put it in a pouch on my belt. Maybe Oracle can use it. Still, what the hell? This is like someone built an office the way they thought a CEO's office should look, without actually having a CEO.

Alright. two stops so far and barely anything to show for it: unintelligible computer files, an unused "president's" office, and a book filled with random letters. Maybe I should have just gone on patrol tonight; at least I would have gotten some more exercise. Maybe I would have run into Cass. We could have kicked ass together. We're good at that.

Anyway, back to business. My next objective: The unlabeled rooms from the plans. This is going to require a little more work: although they're all next to each other on the same floor, every access hallway to them is covered by moving cameras, which I have to avoid, likely using my acrobatic skills to their limits. Dick would think this is the fun part… but he grew up in a circus. Cass also makes this kind of thing look easy, the way she just waltzes gracefully out of the camera's line of sight…like she's dancing to music that no one can hear but her. But there I go again, getting distracted.

Ok…the first camera turns away and I run forward, leap, and roll to a stop under it and out of its sight. The next one starts panning towards me…the first one turns away…now! I leap and wind up out of sight again. One left before my objective…I'm gonna have to get in between the last two as they're parallel to each other…a bound…and a cartwheel…whew. Made it. Cass would be proud. I think.

OK, Mystery room number one. My maglock pick (I'm so glad I brought this thing) makes short work of the lock and I commit yet another act of breaking and entering. And I've found…I don't know what? Well this was unexpected. This entire room is lined, from floor to ceiling, with…Things I've never seen before. Some sort of electrical equipment? There are screens, but the readout is more random letters with no observable pattern… no printers, no wires, no keyboards…desks but no papers…is it a computer bank? Lemme check EM….Woah. Everything in here is radiating electromagnetic energy like crazy. Not like a computer, where you can see the pattern of wires…no, the walls look like they're solidly glowing in the EM goggles. Something Is Not Right Here.

I click off the goggles and pull out my mini digital camera, and start taking pictures. Maybe this is alien technology, in which case I definitively need to share it with the rest of the family, maybe the Justice League. I take a shot of anything that catches my eye at all. Then, deciding that I Really Need To Know what this room is used for, I pull one of my little recording devices and stick it behind one of the, uh… apparatuses using its built in adhesive. Maybe a recorded conversation will break the case. One can always hope.

Well, having gotten nowhere in quite a hurry this night, I decide it's time to leave, and maybe I can work off a little frustration on some ne'er-do-wells before it gets light. Maybe I'll call Dick and vent a little; we make fun of each other a lot but we really are there for each other when it counts. In any event, it seems as though I haven't been detected, so getting out should be about as easy as getting in was…

Goddamn it why do I ever even think things like that. Footsteps behind me as soon as I leave the room. Someone switches on the hallway lights. They can't see me yet, but now I need to be out of here five minutes ago. My mind goes into overdrive as I focus my whole being on getting out of this area. I flip past cameras, sprint to the next blind spot, slide into a corner, and almost see myself doing it in slow motion with all the adrenaline. Normally I wouldn't freak out about a couple of guards, but if I tip off someone that I'm investigating them then they'll start to cover their tracks, making my life even harder.

#&! More footsteps, this time in front of me. Where are these people coming from at this time of night? No time to think about it. I go to Plan Z, which is to say that I need to hide now and I'm making it up as I go along. Aha! A janitor's closet. I rush towards it, yank the door open, twirl myself inside, and yank the door closed again. I then attempt to stop breathing, as it's too noisy. That was too close. Ugh, quiet, Tim! I'm still breathing too loud. I hold my breath, and steps pass by the door without stopping. Whew. Dodged that bullet.

What the…? I still hear breathing…but I'm still holding my breath…There's someone else in here! A sudden shuffle of movement in the dark as I strike out towards the sound. Something—someone—grabs my arm as it extends, so I swing my other hand to break their grip—blocked, they have both my hands now, crossed in front of me. Thinking fast, I pull my arms apart with as much force as I can muster, drawing my opponent towards me as I wind up for a headbutt…and stop short just in time to avoid smacking my skull into…Batgirl's forehead?

"Batgirl?" I whisper as loudly as I dare.

"Robin?" She replies, inches from my face, the reflection of the light coming under the door shining on her black eye lenses.

"What are you doing here?" We ask each other at the same time, and then both stifle a laugh as the tension breaks.

"I was investigating!" whispers Cass. "Got a message."

"Yeah, me too. Did you find anything?"

"There's a room with all this…weird…stuff." She sounds clearly confused.

"Yeah, I saw it too. I've never seen anything like it before. This whole place is strange. There are parts that look like they've never been used, but there's security everywhere, and nothing is written in English."

"People outside too."

"Oh? Are they thugs? My informant said there might be." Cass nods her head at this. I instinctually pull my hand towards my face to scratch my forehead in thought, but it doesn't move and I realize that she's still got both my hands in a death grip. I look back at her eyes, but only see my own face reflected back at me in the lenses.

"Uhh…Cass…you're still holding my wrists."

"Oh! Sorry." She lets go, and I let my arms fall to my side, but we still stand there, inches apart. I don't know how long we stand there, hearing nothing but the sound of each other's breathing and seeing nothing but each other's impassive, masked faces.

An indeterminate amount of time later, some subtle change in the atmosphere breaks…whatever that was… and we simultaneously turn away from each other and back up.

"You ready to get out of here, Cass?" I ask, with more feeling in my voice than I intended. I must be so incredibly readable right now. I think I almost hope she sees what I feel, because I know I'm not going to have the courage to say it out loud. She looks back quizzically for a second, then replies.

"Yeah." My heart leaps. Am I not the only one who can't just say what I feel? A swelling of hope and fear, mingled together, rises in my chest. I stare for just a second longer, but then my deep-ingrained Bat instincts re-assert themselves.

"OK, I have a way out through the air vents in one of the server rooms. It's a bit of a walk, but I think we can do it fine, even with two people. How did you get in here, anyway, Cass?"

"I walked." I'm not even going to ask how she did it exactly; probably something so simple that anyone would think of it but so difficult that no one else could pull it off. I show Cass the plans I used to get this far, and I can tell she's going through her route in her mind. She never ceases to amaze me. She deals with amazing adversity every day, but always overcomes her mental difficulties, one way or another. Her capacity for learning is incredible. She's constantly frustrated, but Cass never gives up, only gets angry and tries harder. She once lost her incredible fighting ability, and knowing full well it would kill her, decided to take it back by force rather than live in mediocrity. This is a girl who has literally been to hell and back, died twice because she refused to kill, only brought back to life because her killer was also her mother. And I, the Teen Wonder, Batman's golden boy, who's spent years and years training with Batman and the most skilled people he could find, still feel somehow lacking when I see her mow through opponents like so many blades of grass. And craziest of all, even with all my tons of emotional baggage, I just can't stop thinking about her.

She points towards the door and cocks her head to the side. I nod and turn for the door. We start our way out of the building.