From Gotham to Cairo

Be Aware of Your Surroundings

"Where are we driving to?" Dick asked, starting up the engine.

"I have an escape route," Damian declared to the others.  "Follow me."

"Damian, do you just happen to know escape routes to every place in Cairo?"

"My grandfather always said, Be aware of your surroundings.  So I followed his advice," Damian answered, making a sharp right turn.

"They're gaining, Dick," Jason warned, watching the three perusing vehicles.

"This is where having a bean bag gun mounted into your motorcycle comes in handy," Dick said, pressing a built-in-switch on his motorcycle.

Upon his command, the Nightbird began to fire bean bag rounds at the League of Assassins' vehicles.

"That'll only slow them down.  We need a permanent solution," Jason said, gripping his seat for dear life.

"I have one in mind," Damian said into the Redbird's built-in-com-link, pressing a button and releasing tiny spiked balls.

Dick weaved through the spiked balls with ease.  Unfortunately one Assassin's vehicle didn't have the same luck.

"Dick, we should be able to smoke them.  We're riding on the world's fastest motorcycle!  They're driving in vans and they still can keep up with our pace!"

"Hey, take it easy on the Nightbird.  She hasn't been the same since Saint Louis.  If memory serves me right, it was you who used it as a battering ram," Dick  replied, veering a tricky turn.

"Well, when you say it like that, reading your younger brother a bedtime story can be a felony offense," Jason defended, anxiously glancing behind them as he spoke.

"Okay, parking garage straight ahead," Damian said, curtly avoiding the chain-link gate that was slowly closing.

The Nightbird made it pass the chain-link gate, barely escaping unscathed.

Crash!

Jason turned and saw the van pursuing them bulldoze straight through the chain-link fence.

"Go to the top floor," Damian ordered.  "We have approximately thirty seconds before the parking garage security sends a squad car to investigate the decimated fence."

"By squad car, I suppose you mean a dinky little golf cart with Garage Security printed on it," Jason remarked.

"Todd, I would appreciate it if you did not exercise your so-called humor in a situation like this.  We have two vehicles chasing us, full of assassins who would like us to turn into corpses."

"Well, the situation is too depressing for me.  Will it kill you if I make a cheap joke?" Jason retorted.

"No, but they might," Damian said, referring to the League of Assassins.

In a random effort to lighten the mood, Jason turned the radio on.

Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want
So tell me what you want, what you really really want...

Jason flinched and jabbed the stereo off again.  That had not been conductive to lightening the mood.  "Dick, what the hell is on your play list?"

"We are going to- Grayson?  Was that the Spice Girls?" Damian asked astounded.

"Uh, no.  Well, yes.  But no...it's...ah...complicated?  Complicated," Dick said, as if he was guessing the answer to a multiple choice question he didn't know the answer to.  "Besides, why do you of all people recognize the Spice Girls?"