Filthy Rich

Chapter 3

“What happened to your neck?”

“’Lucky hit, it’s all right.”

Bruce looked again at the bruising, it could have been a lot worse; Dick’s neck could have been broken if the angle had been different. “Tom mentioned something about you and Roy hooking up with a couple of girls from, I think he said it was Ohio State.”

“It was the best we could do at short notice, I’m sure he bought it.”

Bruce ignored Roy’s smirk and got down to business. “You’re supposed to be grounded for keeping Tom up later than he expected and you”—he looked at Roy—“Would do well to pretend to be a bit chastised for being the cause of Dick’s punishment.”

“You got it. I spoke with Garth when we got back—did you know Atlantean cel phones receive underwater? I think we should get some, just in case. Anyway, they say they can disable the seaplane so the bust should be simple enough. They also have the harbor covered and the private marinas—should be a cake walk.”

“Timing?”

“’Set to go around nine PM.”

“Good. The local police will be notified as soon as we finish our part and will take the dealers into custody.”

So everything was in place. “I suggest you act like you’re a couple of spoiled kids on vacation for the rest of the day. Dick, you may want to try to sneak out so I can ground you for the evening.”

“…So I can sneak out with Roy and Wally and get in more trouble in the morning?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Hey Bruce, I was wondering something; how come we brought everyone down here with us? Why didn’t we just come in, do our thing and get our under the radar quick and dirty? And why did you send Tom along last night? That was a pain in the ass.”

“I promised the staff that they’d come down the next time we came to the island and enough people knew where we were going—opening the house and making sure the boats were in good shape. And, with everyone here, it would have hit the tabloids if I’d let you and Roy go off last night on your own at your ages.” He looked a little chagrinned at being backed into a corner because he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

Dick kept a straight face, funny though it was and despite the fact that Tom and Traver being here and hanging with them was causing complications. “We can deal with it.”

 

* * *
 

Tom couldn’t believe it, the whole thing, the whole trip was getting out of hand and the best the Master could do was tell Dick that he couldn’t leave the island today—that was what constituted ‘grounded’ in Wayne’s world.

He’d seen the other two boys, Roy and Wally, down on the main beach by the cove, Wally staying in the shade and then, about half an hour ago, he looked and saw Dick laying down there with them.

Incredible.

“I thought you were supposed to stay in the house or your room or something today.”

He looked completely unimpressed. “Alfred thought I should stay inside but Bruce thought that was a bit harsh so I’m just supposed to keep away from the boats till tomorrow or something.”

Roy, the smart-ass, started laughing. “You know what the real problem is; he’s jealous that you got some action and he didn’t. Bruce has a rep to think about, y’know.”

“Shut up, Roy.”

“Temper, temper. C’mon Dick, this is funny, admit it.”

“It wasn’t funny last night when I walked in and he was sitting there waiting. I thought he was going to…” He stopped short with a sideways glance at Tom, and both Dick and Roy’s expressions switched from light-hearted to dead serious in a nano-second.

“Did he?” Roy’s voice was low, concerned sounding and Tom’s instincts kicked in full force, though Dick just gave a single headshake. Whatever they were afraid of evidently didn’t happen. Bruce was going to—what? What was he going to do to the kid? Why was he so scared, what was it he was so afraid of and why didn’t he get help if there was a problem? A kid like Dick would have access to plenty of resources, wouldn’t he?

“Dick—you need anything? ‘You all right?”

Still subdued. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks, Tom, don’t worry about me.”

Tom noticed that both Roy and Wally were watching and not happy about what they were seeing, concerned about their friend.

“Are we all supposed to have dinner with him?” Wally was still over under the shade of a palm.

“Yeah, Alfred went over to get whatever’s fresh at the farmer’s market a while ago.”

The boys fell silent, seemingly wondering how they were either going to get out of a family dinner or how they were going to handle it if they were stuck.

“Dick, you need anything—anything at all, you just let me know, okay?”

“Sure, thanks, Tom.”

Back in his own small cottage later, his own hamburger eaten over with the rest of the staff after a cookout, Tom sat in the hammock, swaying gently and wishing he could help the kid. Dick; he liked the boy, respected him most of the time and thought he’d been through more than enough and had earned some, some…some what? Some freedom from the kind of bullshit Bruce seemed to be dumping on him. It wasn’t right. He was just a kid, a smart kid, a resourceful kid, a kid who was probably ten times the equal of a scum like Wayne but still—he was just a kid.

Maybe one of those friends of his could help him out somehow, give him a place to stay where he’d be safe.

The main house, that was part of the problem, a big part probably.

Back in Gotham—okay, in Brixton—he knew that the ‘family’ both had bedroom suites in the same wing, on the same floor and sharing the same hallway. Here the two master bedrooms were right next to one another with the guestrooms on the other side of the house, across the living room. Alfred had his own room somewhere behind the kitchen so whatever happened, happened away from any prying eyes.

Jesus, that poor kid. Even when he was on a vacation he was under the microscope. Well, right now there wasn’t much he could do but when they got home in another ten days or so, then he could maybe do something to help the poor kid. He’d do it, he’d keep his eyes opened and see what there was to see, find out for real what was going on and then he’d, he’d…he’d do something about it. Even Bruce Wayne was human and, dammit, he’d make sure he had to follow the same rules that everyone else was supposed to.

He would.

Poor little rich kid.

 

* * *
 

“Right, Wally, you get over to the main island, see what’s happening on the landing strip we located and then report back in. Garth is watching the cove for the drop off and Dick and Roy will be there to make any arrests. Questions?”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll be having dinner with Justin Timberlake and Madonna over at Richard Branson’s place.”

Dick broke out in that big grin. “Breaking a sweat for truth and justice, Bruce?”

“I do what little I can, thank you.”

“May I ask why, exactly, we had to do the bust like this? I mean, seriously, the Titans could have flown in and handled it ourselves. It’s not like we’ve never arrested drug dealers and importers so why the dog and pony show?”

Bruce sat back in his chair and regarded the boys. “Because you were sloppy on the last one and so the Justice League wants to make sure you know what you’re doing.”

The silence was complete and stunned, lasting almost a full two minutes. Neither Roy nor Wally had the nerve to question Batman but Robin had no compunctions, he knew the man too well and for two long for that. “Excuse me?”

“Three weeks ago the Titans bobbled Harvey Dent’s arrest and barely managed to contain him and his underlings. We want to make sure that was just a fluke.” Bruce was completely composed and calm, he could have been talking about the weather.

“And he’s sitting in Arkham as we speak.”

“Yes, but it was a close thing.” He stood up, unruffled by the boy’s reaction. “No other questions? Good; don’t mess this up tonight.”

Down on the beach an hour later Tom overheard the three boys, Traver staying away after last night’s problems and attitudes. He was somewhere reading a book, or so he said.

“…I can’t believe he gave you that bullshit after everything we’ve done for him and the rest…”

“…You know how he is, all he ever thinks about is performance…”

“…Yeah, better, faster, more. It’s not like we’re amateurs at this, f’chrissake…”

“…Maybe if any of us had time we could, you know, we could sharpen some skills…”

“…Are you serious? More practice? Cripes, we’re as good as it gets, no matter what he and his hot-shit friends think. Like any of them could do what we do. They’ve all got like decades on us, arrogant jerks…”

“…And it’s not like any of us are getting paid for this. Room and board, that’s it, and we’re lucky to get that. We should walk or unionize or something. Sometimes I think they all wrote a list of requirements; number one, orphan so there’d be no parents nosing around, number two, ‘special abilities’…”

“…Lighten up, Roy. You know how he is; he doesn’t believe in compliments. He knows how lucky all those guys are to have us around to do their bidding…”

“…Yeah, well, wait till we’re their age—we’ll whip their butts…”

Tom walked away shaking his head. Sure, they could have been talking about almost anything but it sounded like they were talking about…things. Disgusting things. Things that he’d never in a million years let Trav do or even consider.

Disgusting.

And these kids were only what, fifteen? Wayne should be locked up; he should be in a damn jail cell. That’s where he should be.

 

* * *
 

Tom was coming back from the boathouse when he ran into Dick and his friends. “What have you three got in mind?”

“We’re going over to the main island, hang out and see what’s going on.”

“Dick, you know you’re supposed to stay here. Mr. Wayne will be pretty mad if he finds out you defied him and took off.”

Roy opened the door and pulled the key off the hook. “Yes, Richard, you’re guardian will be mad as a wet hen, we wouldn’t want that.”

“Roy knock it off and stop being obnoxious. Tom, Dick’s all right, we’re just going out for a couple of hours.”

Besides, Bruce is already over there having dinner with someone. We’ll be back before he is, I promise.” Dick untied the boat and climbed in with his friends as they pushed off. “Don’t worry about us, Tom, we’ll be fine. I swear and you won’t get into any trouble or anything—honest.”

“Dick—get back here—Dick!” But the motor started and they couldn’t hear over the engine, even if they’d wanted to.

“Dammit—there’s gonna be hell to pay for this. That kid has no idea. None.”

 

* * *
 

In fact the Titans were so angry by Batman’s attitude and implied insults that they wouldn’t have turned back no matter what Tom, or anyone else, said to them. Besides, they had work to do, important work, even if no one knew about it except them and the local cops.

“Wally, you see the plane?”

“Yeah, it’s being unloaded and the stuff is being transferred to a mini-van. Dark blue. They were talking about heading down to ‘the beach’ so let Garth know.”

Robin and Speedy were already in position, waiting for the drugs to arrive. They’d spoken to Garth and he was tracking the speedboat that would arrive in the cove in five minutes.

This was a walk in the park. Roy turned to Robin and whispered. They could hear the van pulling in. “Why do you think Batman was so insistent that we not screw this up? My grandmother could make this bust.”

“He’s testing us, that’s all. He doesn’t think that we’re going to mess up, he just wants to make sure that we don’t.”

“God, how can you stand working with him?”

“How can you stand working with Green Arrow?”

“Bite me.”

“Let’s go.”

Garth intercepted the speedboat and had the crew tied up as he beached the boat. It had taken him less tan two minutes and, though he would never say anything, he was a little annoyed that he’d been brought all the way to the Caribbean for something so minor.

Wally had disabled the plane, making sure it wouldn’t be moved somewhere to avoid it being used as evidence then joined the other two boys waiting on the beach.

There were three drug runners and three Titans; it was no contest, they were cuffed and ready for transport. The drugs wrapped up and sitting in the local police chief’s desk in less than an hour, the criminals in a holding cell.

The Titans asked for no help, needed no backup and had no problems at all.

Changed into street clothes they decided to celebrate just a little, crashing a pig roast hosted by one of the hotels for its guests.

“Hey, you kids, you mid showing me your wrist tags?” Ah hell, most of the hotels made the guests wear the stupid things so they could be identified and, of course, they had none.

“Sorry, we’ll go.”

“I think you need to come with me, where are you boys staying?”

Shit. “We’re staying on Wayne Cay.”

“Sure you are. C’mon, where are you staying, the Treasure Cove?” It was next door.

Roy, being Roy, spoke up, completely unfazed. “This is Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne’s ward and we’re his friends. We’re staying with Bruce on his island; you want to call him?”

“If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

Dick sighed, this was so unnecessary. “He’s having dinner here on the island so he won’t be there.”

“Do you happen to know where he’s dining?”

“At Richard Branson’s. I think I have the number.” Dick looked through his pocket. “Sorry.”

The police chief, who’d been called in, much to his irritation, smiled. “I have Mr. Branson’s number.” He dialed, spoke for about two minutes and then hung up. “It seems that you’re correct and that Mr. Wayne is, indeed, just finishing his desert and will be here shortly. He seemed unhappy.”

The boys exchanged looks again. They’d have to play along. Sure enough, Bruce was ushered into the chief’s office about twenty minutes later, Richard Branson with him. “I see you’ve been having a little too much fun this evening, Dick; do I need to remind you that you’re supposed to e grounded?”

Dick just shrugged; there was nothing to say, at least as far as the outsiders were concerned. A spoiled rich kid might, maybe, face some consequences for something. It was a good feeling.

“I’ll take you back to the island. Richard, I apologize again for disrupting dinner—it was excellent, as always and we’ll set for golf Tuesday at ten-thirty.”

“Really, Bruce, go easy on them. They’re on vacation, after all.”

“I think vacation is over.”

Back on the island, with Bruce briefed in the boat on the way back and him letting them know he was satisfied with their evening’s work, they pretended to skulk guiltily back to their rooms.

Tom, watching them slink in, shook his head. The poor kid—he was in for a hell of a night and not in a good way.

TBC
 

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