Bruce Wayne, And his three sons were there the night The Flying Grayson's were murdered in front of their 6-year-old son, Dick Grayson. The little boy only speaks Romanian, his homelands native language. Child protective services won't let him stay...
"Nightwing, RedRobin, anything on your end?" Batman asked through his comm. A few moments passed and Batman was getting ready to repeat his question when RedRobin finally replied. "Yea, we talked to the owner of the restaurant, he said Zucco's brother's already collected this months "protection" money, but that's all he knew. What about you?" RedRobin sounded defeated.
"We got some info on his brothers location, meet us in Old Gotham. If the lead is correct then we'll find them there." Batman said revving the engine and peeling out. "Gotcha." RedRobin replied and the comm went silent.
"You think his brother's will really sell him out?" RedHood asked. Batman was quiet for a moment in thought. "These are criminals we're talking about, they aren't like you, Tim and Damian. Just a little nudge and they should spill their guts." Batman said confidently. "Hm." RedHood mused silently to himself.
"But they ARE Mobsters. Some of those groups are tighter then blood." Nightwing said over the comm. Born into a similar society to that of a mafia, he would know. "That's true." RedHood agreed frowning underneath his red helmet. "Not that that's ever stopped us before." RedRobin chimed in, and again, everyone pretty much agreed.
The rest f the ride was spent in silence. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either.
"We'll go on foot from here. We don't want them to know were here before we can locate them." Batman said over the comm get a hum in response.
