บท 27: Drug Dealer's
I followed Robin to a tall building that overlooks a large spread-out school building that I assumed was the Brentwood Academy he talked about. Landing next to him, I resume my human shape.
Robin says "This is an all-boys school, mostly filled with the wealthy of the area. I have been hearing rumors that drugs are being peddled in the area. Gotham Heights underbelly is run by the Yakuza, and they have loose ties with the Shadow Hand Assassins."
"You said that name with some fear in your tone?" I say.
"Yeah, the guy that runs the Shadow Hand Assassins either is 50,000 years old or thinks he is. He claims he was born in the Upper Paleolithic era and history may show he is telling the truth. He says that mankind must evolve to rule the universe and he believes that conflict is the path to faster evolution. He claims to be responsible for every major conflict in recorded history."
"His name is Ra's Vand'al Savage, he created the Shadow Hand Assassin League as his tool of evolution. He has managed to find something he calls Lazarus Pits that can help his commanders live very long lives, but they turn very savage if not insane once they use it. He has shown a significant interest in Devilbat and claims to be behind most of Gotham's problems." Robin summed up.
"So how do the dealers work here? I assume its not one guy holding everything and selling at the same time." I ask.
"No, the one doing the handoff will never have more than one bag and very little money on him, he is also the lookout for cops. The one controlling most of the transaction is out of site the whole time and has lots of holes to go hide in when signaled. Since I started cracking down, they have also started rotating the handoff guys so that aren't too conspicuous staying in one place. The Yakuza are smart enough to know that they don't have to go looking for customers, a junky will find them if they want their fix." He pointed to a street musician.
"There is an operation I haven't seen in a couple years, it used to be run at the Financial District a lot. You have the guitarist / singer playing his instrument and someone would drop some money in his case so he would reach out and shake their hand in thanks. But what is actually happening is the person tipping is putting enough money in the case to buy a street bag (Say 20$). The singer would check the money and if it looked right, he gave him the baggy in the handshake (A Dime bag). Shortly after that another "Pedestrian" would come buy and place some money in the case, but he is taking it out and putting another baggy in the musician's hand on the handshake. Rinse and repeat at almost every block." Robin finished the lesson.
"So, I assume the trick is to watch where the second pedestrian goes to reload and drop the money. Find that spot you have a target who is at least early level management with enough information to warrant the effort of squeezing it out of them." I reply.
"Yeah, you got it. And looky there, that blind guy headed to the alley right after the pedestrian we were watching went past. Let's go." Robin said as he took off over the roof, running quietly but quickly.
As soon as he got to the alleyway, he just jumped down hoping to catch the gangster unaware. I simply followed a few steps behind, so I didn't crowd him while he worked.
It looked like Robin interrupted the guy putting the money in what looked like an old minifridge someone was throwing away. His walking stick leaning against the dumpster, and both his hands in the fridge.
"Are you blind? The door is open, but no light is on, so obviously the fridge isn't plugged in." Acting as if he just noticed the walking stick. "Oh well now I feel terrible, you really are blind, and I went and made fun of you." Said Robin
Going along with the joking tone, "No way he is blind man, my eyes work great, and I barley ever find a mini fridge in an alley. Much less one that has stuff in it." I quip.
"Well, that makes me even more upset, if you aren't blind then I wasted all the opportunities for blind jokes just to spare your feelings." Robin sees the guy pulling his hands out of the fridge and is worried about a gun so he dashes as quick as he can to get close enough to control the drug dealer.
Seeing the guy did actually pull a pistol from the fridge, Robin grabs his wrist and expertly twists it until he pops the guy's wrist out of socket. Just after the sickening crunch of Cartledge, Robin secures the gun and says, "Wait I know the sound of that wrist being pulled out of its socket. Kyouji san is that you?" He pulled the dark glasses off and acted surprised.
"It is you Kyouji, man I haven't see you in what 8 months now. Nice to see your wrist had healed nicely. The tendons were almost back to normal, sorry about that." Robin shrugged as he dismantled the gun he took from Kyouji and placed its parts in different pockets on his belt.
"You know, you are awful close to a school with this gun, you could have lost your permit for it if a policeman caught you. No worries though ill keep it for you." Looking around the alley he continued.
"I got to say Kyouji this is a poor place to keep your money and baking powder also, you could get robbed in this alley." Robin reaches out his right hand like he wants to shake Kyouji's. On reflex Kyouji clasps Robins hand, Rodin shook it up and down like he was greeting the poor guy.
"Wait a minute, I'm no dummy!" Robin says. "That's not baking powder is it." In one smooth motion Robin pulls Kyouji over his shoulder and flips him to his back on the cold alley floor. Robin let his hand go and walked to the fridge and cleaned it out, putting everything in his belt pouches.
"No worries Kyouji, I'll get rid of the powder for you and donate the money to Crowne Pointe Medical Center in your name. I heard the familiar sound of your shoulder popping out of socket when I flipped you but I'm sure they will put in some extra effort for such a devoted money doner as you. Just think, another couple hundred thousand and then they will only let the residents work on your medical needs. No more interns fumbling their way through repairing your joints." He pointed out in a sunny voice.
I could hear some rushed footsteps headed our way and leaned away from the wall, but Robin motioned me back. I guess he wanted to handle it himself.
Six guys turned into the alleyway and skidded to a stop when they saw Robin. Once he saw them, he stepped back a bit, drawing them further into the alley.
Seeing them hesitate, Kyouji screamed from his position "Kill this Fucker, NOW."
Robin looked down at him and said, "Now that's just rude." He then used the toe of his boot to kick Kyouji's ankle in the perfect spot to pop it out of joint as well.
The guy in the lead of the group pulled out a gun but before he could even lift it Robin had thrown a birdarang and knocked it out of his hand. Not wanting to give anyone a chance to grab the gun on the floor he charged into the middle of their group throwing knife edge chops to joints and dodging their blows making sure to redirect them to their friends for impact. Finding the perfect angle Robin kicked the gun in my direction and I picked it up to make sure it wouldn't be brought back into play.
Robins fighting style was amazing, all I could make out was some Hapkido and Kuzushi. Both worked wonders on redistributing the attacks of his opponents to do the most damage against their own group. When Robin struck it was toward a joint and more often than not the struck joint was incapacitated after a single attack.
After just a few short moments, the alley way was littered with groaning and whimpering bodies with only me and Robin still standing. Well, I guess I was leaning but that's just semantics.
"Well now that that's out of the way let's discuss why you are so close to a school zone with his crap Kyouji.
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