Friends with the Enemy

33) A New Approach

Dick woke up with a gasp. An irritating noise rung in his ear and he felt lightheaded. Disoriented, his groggily eyes darted around the area he was being held captive in as he tug on his restraints.

As he got his bearings back he closed his eyes and tried to steady his breath. Think, he thought, what happened? How did you get here?

He vaguely remembered being attacked from behind. Oh, he realized, I was drugged.

Dick's bafflement turned into fear. What was going to happen to him? Why was this happening to him? For a second, he wondered if this was his bullies' doing, but he pushed the accusation away just as quickly as it had sprouted. He doubted some spoiled rich kids would go to this extent. So who would?

Dick swallowed nervously as he noted his situation. He was tied to a chair by the hands and feet with rope. He was in a small, dark room like looked almost looked like a closet. Lights peeked from underneath the door in front of him, indicating that his captors possibly stood just outside the room.

Dick tried not to hyperventilate. He needed to get out, but how? The rope was so tight around his wrist that he could feel the lack of blood circulation in his hands. Should he yell and just find out what they wanted with him? They wouldn't kill him, right? They wouldn't have gone through the work of kidnapping him just to kill him.

"H-hey! I'm awake! Why am I here?" Dick cried. No response. "Hello?!"

SLAM! Two men barged in with their hands on their guns that rested in their holsters. They moved to the side so another man could walk in. Dick wanted to scream angrily. It was the teacher that tricked him!

"You're not a real teacher!" Dick accused with knitted brows.

The man chuckled. "Of course not, boy. That's a job I'd never want to have; the pay's too low. But it was worth going through the trouble of following the real teacher and stealing his ID. All I needed then was a fake mustache and tie," he joked. The other men cackled.

Dick pushed uselessly against the rope. "What did you do to him?!"

The man's grin fell and he grabbed Dick's face roughly by the jaw and cheeks. "That's none of your business," he snarled, "You're in no place to demand anything so shut your trap. Now, listen closely, boy," he ordered as he let go of Dick's face and pulled a phone from his pocket. "We're gonna call your daddy, and you're gonna tell him how scared you are, y'know, all that pathetic crap. If big ol' Wayne buys it, there won't be an issue." He paused. "If not, we are gonna have a problem."

The crook faked a pleasant smile that exposed his yellow teeth. "But you'll be a good boy, won't ya?"

Dick paused before nodding curtly. The men laughed tauntingly as their boss pat Dick's cheek like a dog and dialed a number that he read off a slip of paper.

After a moment of ringing a woman answered the phone. "Hello, this is Way-"

"Miss, put Bruce Wayne on the line. Make it quick. I don't like to wait, and I'd hate to take it out on little Dickie here." The man commanded with a sly tone of voice.

Immediately, the call was put on hold and sent to another number. "Where is he?" Bruce instantly hissed after a few moments of waiting for the service to switch the call. He sounded more troubled than Dick had ever heard him sound before.