From Gotham to Las Vegas

How Good is the Quality of Your Com-link?

"Hey, bro, you mind if I talk with Gun?"

"Go ahead," T-bone shrugged.

"Jason, what did you do?" Dick asked flatly.

"What?"  Jason gave him an innocent look, brows lifted inquiringly over bright emerald green eyes.

"You killed that man," Dick responded.

"No, I didn't.  I ended the choke hold before he would've died.  If I held the choke hold for another minute, maybe he would've died.  I merely knocked him out," Jason explained casually.

Dick gave him a penetrating look.  "You sure about that," Dick questioned.

Jason narrowed his eyes.  "Yeah, I'm sure.  You don't believe me?"

"No, I believe you," Dick denied, turning back to T-bone.

"In here," T-bone said, gesturing toward a van.

Dick and Jason entered the vehicle, wrinkling their noses at the smell of old pizza's and beers.

"The boss isn't too far away from here," Glock said, who entered the driver's seat.

"Uh, who is the boss?"

"Mister Sionis," answered Glock.

Sionis, Sionis, I know that name, Dick thought furiously.

"Did Mister Sionis operate in Gotham?" Dick asked.

"Sure did, he moved out of Gotham 'cause he had some 'official business' to attend to.  I haven't found out what the business it is, yet, but someone said it had to do with some corporate deal.  You two from Gotham?"

"Yup."

"Then you two remember Sionis Cosmetics?  It used run in the mid nighties to early 2000's.  Papa and Mama Sionis owned the business, but they died and Mister Sionis inherited Sionis Cosmetics," T-bone explained.  "My guess is the 'corporate' business has to do with Mister Sionis' cosmetics business."

Dick finally remembered, Sionis Cosmetics was worn by all the rich fat cats in Gotham.  Bruce used to say it was the hardest makeup to wash off his collars when women threw themselves at him.

"Does Mister Sionis' first name happen to be Roman?" Jason asked.

"Uh, yeah, but don't call him Roman.  Once, Eddy called him that and, well, let's just say he currently has three fingers," Jamal shuddered.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Jason responded.

"We're here," Glock said, pulling up to a rundown playing card warehouse.

They got out of the car and entered the warehouse.  The first thing Dick and Jason saw was at least thirty men in black business suits.  Each suit was custom-made with a convenient pocket where a firearm could be concealed.

"Mister Sionis, sir, you have a new recruit for you.  Actually, two new recruits," Jamal corrected himself.

"I told you I need no more," Sionis said roughly.

Dick and Jason couldn't see Sionis, seeing as Sionis was facing the other direction.

"Yeah, but these guys are tight shit.  That one there," Glock said pointing Jason, "did some kinda James Bond shit.  Choked another guy."

"Glock, do you remember what happened to the last man who didn't follow my orders?" Sionis asked quietly.

Glock swallowed hard before saying, "I remember; it's just I think these guys can be helpful in reaching your goals."

"So, you think your judgment is better than mine?  You rebelled against my judgment."

"I'm so sorry, sir, this kind of mistake won't happen again," Glock apologized, paling drastically.

"You're right, it won't," Sionis confirmed.

Jason and Dick managed to see Sionis stick his thumb in the air and put it down.

"No, sir, please, I didn't mean t-"

Bang, bang, bang!

The men dressed in black business suits whipped out their concealed pistols, and emptied the chambers at Jamal, T-bone, and Glock.  Finally, Sionis turned around.  From the bottom to his torso he looked pretty normal, wearing a white Gucci suit and a Rolex.  But from the neck up, normal was not the word to use to describe him.  Sionis had a black mask fused to his body and both Dick and Jason finally remembered who Roman Sionis was: The Back Mask.

"Lucky for you two, a job is up for my number two and for a street level man," Black Mask stated.

"Yes, and we intend to fulfill it," Jason said eagerly.

"Thomas, show these two to their car," Black Mask ordered.

"Yes, sir."

A man fitted his gun back into his pocket, and escorted Jason and Dick out of the warehouse.

"You two were lucky the boss was in such a good mood," the man stated.

"That was him in a good mood?" Jason asked dryly.

"Hell yeah.  If he was really pissed then he probably would have cut their hands off before killing them," replied the man.

"Grayson, Todd, are you two in the clear?" Damian asked.

"Did you say somethin'?"

"What?  No, of course not," Jason said easily.

"Repeat, repeat, are you two in the clear? Damian asked again.

The man stopped and took a better look at Jason and Dick's ears.

"You two are DEA, aren't you?" asked the man, drawing out his gun.

Dick easily disarmed the man and punched him in the stomach before the man could get a single shot out.

"Damian, what the hell?  You just blew our cover," Jason growled into his com-link.

"Sorry, Todd, but you know that reception on these com-link are not the best," Damian replied.  His voice was quiet, though, and they both winced.  They knew Damian didn't want to be left behind on this one but this was so far out of his league, he'd be holding them back.

"What are you talking about?  This is state-of-the-art WayneTech equipment," Jason snapped as Dick clapped his hands over the man's temples and knocked him out.

"No, the com-links are refurbished from the Justice League," Damian rebooted.

"Who told you that?" Jason asked.

"Father, who told you that?" Damian questioned.

There was a pause before Jason muttered, "Bruce."

"Well, I'll see you at the hotel," Damian said after an awkward pause.

"Yeah," Jason said, entering the nearest vehicle and hot-wiring it.

Dick smashed the man's face into the window of another car just to be safe before entering Jason's and driving off.