Justice League. Contingencies.

Nightwing & Oracle

The briefcase opened. In it lay square boxes made of lead. Each had the emblem of a core member of the Justice League on its lid.

An shadowy hand reached for a box opening it.

Nightwing leaped off his perch towards the eerie figure. Both the man and the briefcase vanished. Mysteriously.

The lid, bearing Flash's emblem clanged on the cement floor.

"Babs, did you get that?" Nightwing shuddered involuntarily.

"Bombs behind you!"

Grabbing the lid, Nightwing jumped out of the window as a series of bombs set the room ablaze, destroying all evidence.

A Bat-line dropped in front of the falling vigilante.

Grabbing it, he swung up into the Batplane that The Oracle was piloting from her bedroom.

"Any sign of Bruce?" She asked.

"No," Nightwing frowned. "Nothing on the others either."

"They vanished without a trace. The two of us are all that's left of the Bat-family," she sighed. "We'll have to move on to Plan B."

-------

"Where's Barry?" Green Lantern scanned the meeting room for Flash.

"Maybe he's late?" Wonder Woman shrugged.

"He's not answering his communicator," frowned Superman.

"He was supposed to meet me for lunch this morning but never showed up," Captain Marvel rubbed the back of his neck.

"I thought something must have cropped up with his rogues as he didn't pick up my calls."

Nightwing strode into the room and took a seat.

Green Arrow stood up. "The rest of us are present. We'll start now and brief him later. Dick has some important updates."

All eyes were on Nightwing.

"Do you remember Batman's contingency plans?" Nightwing felt the hostile glares on him. The anger his mentor's actions had earned.

"You mean the plans he concocted to take down each and every one of us?" Wonder Woman's voice was icy.

"They've been stolen." Nightwing flushed with embarrassment. "From under our very noses"

"Holy Moley! How did that happen?" Captain's eyes flew wide.

"Not the first time. Batman had his Batmobile wheels stolen by a street kid while he was chasing crooks," Cyborg rolled his good eye.

"Is Bruce doing anything about it?" Superman crossed his arms.

"That's another problem. He's vanished," Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. "The entire Bat-family has disappeared. Babs and I have been searching for them but until now we have no idea what happened to them."

"Back to the contingency plans to take us down." Aquaman leaned forward with his hands on the table. "What do you know about them?"

"Each contingency plan is in a lead box with the hero's insignia on it. Each box contains the said hero's weakness.

He created one for each hero he considers a global threat if gone rogue."

Nightwing spread his hands on the table. "Although I don't agree with his methods, I can understand where he's coming from.

Each of the heroes concerned has enough power to destroy the world at their finger tips."

"And we use that power to save the world many times over," snapped Wonder Woman.

"The heroes are," Nightwing scanned the room.
"Superman
Captain Marvel
Wonder Woman
The Flash
Aquaman
Cyborg
Green Lantern
Black Canary
Martian Manhunter"

"That's everyone here except me," sputtered Green Arrow.

"Does he think I can't destroy the world if I go rogue? I'm dangerous ok!" His face turned red with outrage.

"He probably does. He just can't figure out how to take you down," Black Canary rubbed Arrow's back to calm him down.

"Bruce and Ollie would just throw money at each other," Captain Marvel nudged Cyborg who suppressed a chuckle.

"Any clues who stole it?" Superman asked.

Nightwing tossed the lid with Flash's emblem onto the table and told them what he had seen.

"Whoever it was, I think they've got Barry."

-------

It's been a tough day. Many false leads. Still no progress. Barbara Gordon, a.k.a. Oracle wheeled herself to the kitchen for a quick pick me up.

Something moved.

"Dick?"

Of course it's not Dick. He's still at the Watchtower with The Justice League.
It must be the cat.

Creeeak.

Her ear pricked up. Sounded like someone opened the window.

Barbara took out her eskrima sticks, listening for movements.

Large arms grabbed at her but missed as she dodged, wheeled around and whacked her attacker with the sticks. Her attacker lay on the floor. Unconscious.

Three more masked figures clothed in black leaped from the shadows.

With her switchblade, she deliberately marked the table. Then turned her wheelchair to face her assailants.

Her hands pushing against the arm rests for support, she propelled her legs upwards, kicking the first attacker in the jaw while ramming the wheelchair against the second's groin.

The third head butted her.

The room spun around as Barbara Gordon blacked out.