Chapter 5: The Fallen Son

"How much longer, Selina?"

Catwoman sighed in aggravation. "Do you mind, bird-boy? I'm trying to focus." She twisted the pin again, and the lock sprung off the gate. "There! It's off! Happy now?"

"Yes," Tim replied with relief. "I felt myself shriveling up and dying over here."

"My god, didn't Bruce ever teach you patience?"

"I'm still learning. Remember, I'm only a level 10 disciple."

Selina groaned and strolled into the library section of the museum. Thanks to Tim's remote hacking device, the security cameras and alarms were a breeze to disarm. They were in the main hall in less than a minute.

"I don't know where they might have books on cuneiform," Selina said, looking at seemingly endless rows of bookshelves stacked 30 feet tall.

"It could be under the C's section," Tim said with slight sarcasm.

Selina turned dramatically and placed her hands on her hips. "Wow...I never would've guessed that! I only mean it might be listed under "Mesopotamia" in the M's."

"That's true. We should split up. I'll take the M's, so you won't have to walk as far," he remarked, eyeing her heeled thigh boots.

"Kid, I've been wearing heels longer than you've been alive. I think I can handle a little walking," she said, starting down the hall.

Tim shrugged. "Suit yourself."

...

"I wonder why Ra's came back to Gotham," Dick asked while scanning the field of shipping crates. "You'd think that after the last time Bruce humiliated him, he'd return to the League's temple in Cairo to lick his wounds."

"I don't care why he's back in Gotham," Jason said sternly. "I care more about who he's out to get. That symbol is a personal threat. Whoever it's meant for must have pissed off the League, and that's never a good thing."

"You were in the League for a while, Jay...can you think of anyone that might have crossed Ra's?"

Jason laughed mockingly. "It would be easier to list people who haven't. Besides, I left a few years ago. A lot more could've happened since then."

"There it is," Dick said, pointing to the yellow crate. They cautiously approached the symbol and leaned in to examine the letters.

"That's some pretty fancy graffiti," Dick chuckled.

"Look at the detail they put into the letters. This must have taken a couple of hours," Jason stated. "This person is dedicated to humiliating their target."

"I'll get an ink sample and send it to Babs. Check the area for any more evidence."

Jason marched out into the open area between the rows of crates. He pressed a button on the side of his helmet and activated his detective mode. The scanning ring and black-light sensor appeared in the eye lenses of Jason's mask. He turned back toward the symbol and scanned for fingerprints. The scanner reported, 'INSUFFICIENT DATA.'

"No fingerprints,'" Jason mentally acknowledged. "This person isn't wearing the traditional finger-less gloves like most of the League. The person who painted this must have fingerprints on record."

He scanned the pavement for any footprints.

"The only recent sets are from the worker's leather boots."

Jason moved back to the crate and checked the sides near the doors. Just as he was about to give up, he spotted something very small, highlighted in blue.

"Yo, Circus boy!" he shouted. "I found something."

"So did I," Dick replied with his forearm computer activated.

...

Barbara tapped the blue holographic keypad and rolled over the footage. Workers at the sight moved forward and backward quickly at her command of the film reel. The time-lapse of the sun and moon moved across the cloudy Gotham sky. Days rolled by in seconds, yet no sign of the ninja that painted the symbol.

Suddenly, an alert tone sounded, and molecules in chain form appeared in a tab in the upper corner of the screen.

"Babe, I need you to check this out. This is the ink sample from the crate. See if you can determine the type of ink or manufacturer," Dick said through the com-link.

"No problem. It'll be ready in a few seconds."

Barbara maximized the window and examined the sample. She pulled up ink molecule samples from the BatComputer's stored database and compared the two side by side.

"What the heck?!" she asked aloud.

The two samples were nothing alike. The ink sample from Dick wasn't ink at all. The formation of the particles was all wrong. She zoomed in on the structure and analyzed the compounds making up the sample. Tiny clumps of red dots formed together in a long chain. The list of all the compounds it was made of went on for miles, but she recognized a few key ones; Iron, Oxygen, Water, Cholesterol, Calcium, and Carbon Dioxide. That meant the ink was only made of one thing...

...

The Batmobile screeched to a halt and spit water against the sewer walls. Bruce pulled back the roof and sunk ankle-deep in the sewage. He'd be sure to give Alfred a raise for cleaning the suit. He rounded the corner and continued down the network of tunnels. The Lazarus pit he searched for was built where the pure water source met the sewage plant. Batman activated the black-light sensor on his helmet and set it to scan for Lazarus compounds. Sure enough, small green particles hovered in the air and floated further down the tunnel.

After following the trail for nearly ten minutes, Bruce arrived at the opening where the tunnels merged. Facing him about twenty feet away was a small fountain pouring a glowing green liquid into a large ditch. He walked over to it and grabbed a sample vile from his utility belt. As he put the sample back in his belt, his video communicator activated to show Tim and Selina.

"What have you found?" he inquired.

"A lot. Selina and I found the books on Cuneiform, and the symbol does contain a few letters, but the entire message is written in several different languages."

"Parts of the message are written in Arabic or ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs," Selina tuned in. "They shift between languages every few letters. It seems like a hassle to write a message for someone they hate. Why not just write it in Arabic? Only the League would understand what it says."

"One language would be too simple for their purpose. To become a member of the League, you need to learn multiple dialects. It helps you communicate in secret with other assassins and lay low if you're being tracked. They disrupt their messages with different letters and symbols to disorient the average reader. "

"Someone within the League wants to tell other League members to kill a rogue?" Tim asked.

"Correct," Bruce replied.

Suddenly, his communication panel emitted an alert tone.

"Barbara must have something for me. Send a digital copy of the letters to Barbara. She can get started on the translations while we head back."

Tim and Selina's connection faded and was replaced with Barbara's face cam.

"What did you find?" Bruce asked.

"Too much to discuss over the phone. I'm calling everyone back to the cave."

...

The Batmobile stopped on the landing pad with the rest of the family behind on the motorcycles. They exited their vehicles and made their way to the main computer.

"What's the damage?" Dick asked, leaning over Barbara's shoulder.

"I ran the ink and hair samples you sent. Either the League is getting pretty sloppy these days, or they intentionally made the evidence easy to find."

"Is it someone we know?" Jason asked.

"Surprisingly, two people we know." Barbara maximized the screen with the alleged ink sample. "The ink is actually blood...and it belongs to someone in our archives."

She clicked the search tool, and the computer drew up a woman's profile picture. Her skin was a soft caramel, her hair was ash brown, and her eyes the color of topaz. She was dressed in a tight-fitting leather suit with golden symbols stitched down the arms. Attached to a belt was a long curved blade with a golden handle in the shape of a jackal.

"Talia..." Bruce seethed with his fists clenched.

"Why in the hell did the League paint the symbol in Talia al Ghul's blood? What'd they do...kill her?" Jason asked with a smirk.

"Ra's wouldn't kill Talia, no matter how many times he's threatened to in the past," Bruce replied, stalking up to the computer. "She's the one keeping the League alive. Her sister Nyssa was disowned and banished, leaving Talia as Ra's only key to an heir."

"So what did she do, donate blood for the symbol?" Dick asked.

"I know that was meant to be a joke, but that could very well be true," Bruce said.

"That would mean the symbol is some type of League ritual," Tim chimed in.

"It could be. Talia wasn't working alone. The hair sample Jason found matched Talia's head guard, Zafirah," Barbara replied.

"What about the camera feed? Did it pick up anything?" Bruce questioned.

"You were right. All of my cameras in the area had a suspicious malfunction a few days ago that caused the feed to stop. Thankfully, we don't need them. We already know Talia drew the symbol, but we need to review one more piece of evidence. While you guys have been grilling me for the past fifteen minutes, the Batcomputer has been analyzing the language books you collected from the museum and is deciphering the message. Here it is..."

She pulled up another screen that displayed the message. It was arranged in stanzas, almost like a deadly poem.

Trust me when I say

you shall dearly pay

for the mistake you have made.

Laugh if you may,

but soon comes the day

my sword will pierce your chest

for leaving the League in a mess.

You could have ruled our spies,

but now you face your inevitable demise.

Hiding would not be wise,

for I shall search forever... far and wide.

Soon dawns the night your heart stops beating.

I wait impatiently for our meeting.

Only then will the game be done.

Come forth, "Fallen Son."

The room grew eerily quiet as the message sunk in. Bruce's fists clenched and unclenched as he read the message. Barbara adjusted her glasses and gawked at the message in disbelief. As she reached the end of the text, she swiveled in her chair to face the others.

"Who is the "Fallen Son"?"

Momentary silence blanketed the room.

"Me," Jason's voice said through the darkness.