#1

"Jumper"

By Tony Thornley

Bludhaven probably hadn't seen such a massing of its police force in months. The searchlights all focused on one pair standing seven stories up on a building across from a popular nightclub. A basso underbeat punctuated the police action, as the party in the club continued without paying heed to the scene unfolding outside. While one of the pair was in plain view, view of the other was blocked by the man in front of him

The two men standing above the street stood mere inches away from a drop that would kill them if not for the net set up below. The man closest to the ledge was being held by the other man, his arm held painfully behind his back. The first man groaned. The second did nothing to remedy the other's pain.

Another police car pulled up, and the man that the second man was waiting for stepped out. Chief Redhorn of the BPD would probably enjoy this. If the first man wasn't a known mafia hitman, he'd probably be branded a nutjob for this. Not that he wasn't already,

The second man pushed his hostage off the ledge and into the net below. The second man could almost hear Redhorn's curse from where he stood.

"Open fire!" Redhorn screamed. "Get Nightwing!"

But Dick Grayson was already gone.

That was totally nuts. I'm probably going to have a call from Bruce once I get home chastizing me. He'll get over it. I might as well have given the media a show, make Redhorn look bad for ordering the force to fire on someone who just turned in a wanted killer. Knowing this city though, he'll be back on the streets in 24 hours, most likely because of a large cash sum from one Roland Desmond. But that's twenty-four hours without him on the street. I'm glad Clancy convinced me to come clubbing with her tonight...

"Dick!" called a voice over the crowded dance floor. Clancy shoved through the crowd towards the former teen sidekick. The episode outside had only lasted a few minutes, but he'd disappeared nearly half an hour ago, chasing that hitman.

"There you are!" she exclaimed. "I thought you'd flushed yourself down the crapper or something."

"Clance!" Dick laughed.

"Sorry. What took you so long?!"

"The cops were outside!" Dick yelled over the music. "Nightwing just threw some guy off the roof of the building across the street!"

"Serious?!"

"I got a look at the guy," Dick said with a nod. "It's the hitman that's been on the news for the past week, wanted for four murders in the 'Haven alone. More in the greater Gotham area."

"Wow," Clancy said, motioning Dick towards a less crowded area away from the DJ. "So he was turning the guy in?"

"Yep. I'll bet the bastard will get off on a technicality, or because of a bribe or something."

"Typical. So how do you like this place?"

"It's fantastic," Dick laughed. He grabbed a chair at a table and sat down. Clancy took the chair opposite him. "Two Soders!" Dick yelled to the barkeep. He liked the non-alcoholic bar here. Made the club more public friendly, which was exactly what Bludhaven needed. Something to get the kids off the streets.

"Isn't it great?" Clancy said, glancing around. "A girlfriend brought me last week, and I just knew you had to come." Clancy nodded towards the bar, where two Soder Colas sat out. Dick jumped up and grabbed the two glass bottles and sat back next to Clancy.

"Thanks," Clancy said.

"No thank you," Dick replied. "It's fantastic. Want to come again next week?"

"That a date Grayson?"

"Maybe," Dick said with a grin.

"That was stupid tonight fly-boy."

Dick sat atop his apartment building, talking with Oracle on his cordless, a nightly check-in of sorts.

"Hey Babs, you know any chance I get to humiliate the cops in this town, I take. But... you're right; it was stupid. Bruce call you about it?"

"Three times. I'd let him cool overnight. Beat up the Scarecrow or something. Then give him a call."

"Yes ma'am," Dick said. "Hey Barb?"

"Dick?"

"You doing anything tomorrow night?"

"Lesse, tomorrow's Saturday... just saving the world, you?"

"Well, I was hoping to take a lovely red head to dinner, if that's okay with her..."

"The JLA could do okay without me for a night," Barbara said. "You want me to get reservations?"

"Go for it."

"Anyplace in particular?"

"Surprise me." Footsteps attracted Dick's attention. About twenty feet and a busy street away was a young man. He seemed to be in his late teens/ early twenties, a little shorter than himself, and built nearly identically.

"Dick, I've got something big for you here."

"Yeah, go ahead," Dick said distractedly.

"Killer Croc just broke from Blackgate, was least seen headed towards the Haven..." Oracle's statement about Croc trailed off in Nightwing's ears. The young man had just stepped up to the edge of the building and spread his arms. He was going to jump.

"Emergency Babs, gotta go." Dick cut the call off and rushed for the fire escape. He turned back on his phone and punched 911.

"Hello, this is Dick Grayson," he said once an operator answered. "There's a jumper on the roof across from my building. Can you get my address? Great. Thanks." Dick threw his phone into his apartment as he rushed past it, then flipped off the fire escape to the alley below. He ran to the street and checked both ways. He was clear. Didn't want to have to show off his "skills" in plain sight. He ran across the street and jumped on the fire escape, climbing as fast as he could. He stopped just before he went over the edge of the roof and cooly took the last few steps. The young man had his eyes closed, his arms spread out. He was rocking back and forth, obviously preparing to jump.

"Don't try talking me out of it man," he said.

"Wasn't going to try to," Dick said, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. "Chilly night to try to kill yourself."

"Try?"

"Touch," Dick said. "But you know, from this height, it might just break lots of bones."

"Painful?"

"Very."

"How do you know that?"

Dick reached the ledge and sat down next to the young man's feet. He shrugged. "Was in the circus as a kid. My parents were acrobats. Of course, they were this high up when they fell. It killed them. But I've seen people survive falls or jumps from this height. The secret's in how you do it."

"Uhm what do you mean?"

"Dick Grayson," Dick said in introduction.

"Matt Heyl," the young man said. "What do you mean by 'how you do it'?"

"Well, if you go feet first, you'll land on your legs and shatter them. If you can go head first somehow, you'll break your neck or crush your skull and probably die instantly."

"Dude, that's gruesome," Matt muttered.

"You're the one jumping off a building," Dick replied. "Wanna take a sit?"

"Uhm, sure..." Matt stepped back then sat down next to Dick. He sighed and slumped his shoulders.

"So you sure about this?" Dick asked.

"After the month I've had, yeah, I am."

"Oh...?"

"Lost my job at the begining of the month," Matt said. "My boss had it in for me. He thought I was a radical because I thought Redhorn should be replaced. Said that the Chief has helped this city more than anyone else short of the city's founder. He's probably the most corrupt cop in the nation. Nightwing's done more in the months he's been here than Redhorn has in the years he has been Chief of Police."

Thanks for the compliment.

"Yeah, he's pretty corrupt. Where'd you work?"

"WayneCorp. Then, my girlfriend left me. She was in the relationship for the money. No more money, no more her. I was going to propose man! I had the ring and everything. I thought she loved me!"

"I'm sorry," Dick said. "I've experienced that sort of thing too. But those two things are it? I've heard jumpers with much better sob stories."

"Gee thanks."

"You're welcome. You know what? You have a lot to live for still. For one thing, I know Bruce Wayne personally. He took me in after my parents died. I can get you your job back, and your boss fired. I know Bruce wouldn't put up with someone like that."

"I guess the right guy saw me before I jumped. And the girlfriend thing?"

"Let me introduce you to my Super," Dick laughed. "Feeling better?"

"Not really."

"Why not?"

"Because I had my mind made up about it. I was going to jump and no one was going to talk me out of it. Nothing's this easy."

"Oh, this is the easy way out hunh? Jumping off a building, splattering yourself all over the sidewalk? That's easy? It's not right Matt. Trust me." Dick turned and stood on the roof. He turned back to Matt and offered his hand. "It's not worth it. Come on."

"No." Matt pushed off the roof and fell. Dick jumped, trying to snag the jumper's hand. His fingers wrapped around Matt's sleave, and he pulled him back up to the roof.

"You saved my life!" Matt cried. "Why?"

"I've seen too much death in my life," Dick said. "I try to avoid it."

"Well..." Matt paused, obviously wondering what to say. "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome. Now let's go give Bruce a call."

Dick leaned against the police car, giving his account of Matt's suicide attempt. The cop nodded and jotted down notes. Thofficer held up his hand to stop him.

"That's great Mister Grayson," the officer said. "Thank you. The kid's grateful. Have you ever thought about hostage negotiation? You did a good job with him."

"I haven't. Thanks though. I might look into it."

Chief Redhorn looked up from the file of the man Nightwing had tossed off the roof earlier in the evening. Notorious mob hitman. There was no way he was getting off on a technicality. A knock on the dor interrupted his work.

"Come in."

The door opened and the imposing form of Roland Desmond filled the doorframe. Redhorn jumped to his feet, a sneer on his face.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Calm down Chief," Desmond said. "I just needed to speak with you for a moment."

"By all means," Redhorn said sarcasticly. The mob boss and former villian known as Blockbuster entered the office and shut the door.

"Who is Nightwing?"

"If I knew, he'd be behind bars right now. I don't really have time for this Desmond."

"I want you to find out," Desmond said. "I want you to discover the identity of Nightwing. I'll take care of it from there."

"I told you, I really don't have time for this." Without warning, Blockbuster grabbed Redhorn by the throat and lifted him above his desk. Redhorn gagged as Blockbuster's beefy hands squoze his wind-pipe shut.

"You will make time Chief," Blockbuster growled, "or your compensa- urk!" Blockbuster dropped Redhorn on his desk and clutched his chest. The pain was horrible. It felt like his heart was about to explode. Desmond collasped into a chair and gasped for air. Redhorn climbed down from his desk and watched to mob boss. The pain subsided as a knock resounded in the office. The door opened before Redhorn could say anything. The mayor strode into the room.

"I have news for you Redhorn," the mayor said. "The satisfaction with your officers are at an all-time low."

"I'm sorry to hear that your hon-"

"Shut up and listen to me Redhorn. The city council feels this dissatisfaction is due to the current management. That's why we've come to this descision." Desmond sat up. He was just about to lose his biggest link to the police department. "You've been demoted Redhorn. Meet your replacement." A slim Hispanic man in a trenchcoat stepped into the room. His face revealed years of hard service. Tabacco stains laced his fingers, but his teeth showed no signs of smoking. The suit he wore was impeccably pressed.

"Redhorn, meet Chief of Police Jared Morillo."

"S'a pleasure," Morillo said with a salute.

In Nightwing #2: Dick should have listened to Oracle. If he had, he would have known about Killer Croc in Bludhaven. It's an error that will cost lives. Plus, Morillo's taken over as Bludhaven Chief of Police. What's Blockbuster going to do about it?