Chapter Three

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Artemis sat behind a table in the cave's interrogation room. "Ok, kid, what's your real name?" Batman asked.

"Artemis. Artemis Crock."

"How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen."

"And you fought the sidekicks earlier today, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct, sir."

"What's a kid like you doing, working with the Shadows? Do your parents know about this?"

"They do, actually. My mom is-er-was Huntress. My dad is Sportsmaster."

Batman didn't look phased. "Well, that would certainly do it. How long have you been trained?"

Artemis shrugged. "As long as I can remember."

"Why do you work with the Shadows?" The Bat asked.

Artemis tensed. "Because of my parents."

"Any personal gain?"

"Unless you count trauma as personal gain, no." She could slap herself. Her mouth had moved before her brain, replying the way she would to her father.

"So you don't want to work with the Shadows?"

"I never said that."

"You implied it. And answer the question."

She sighed. "No. Never have. I've just never had the choice."

Batman nodded. "If you were offered the opportunity to leave, would you?"

"I'd be out of there as fast as if it were hell."

"What kind of things have you done?"

"I've stolen a bunch of things, usually very valuable. Getaway driving." She tensed up. "Murder." She looked down, almost like she was about to cry.

Batman nodded, ignoring the teen's sign of weakness. "Well, you are a Shadow, and have committed the crimes of one, so you have to options. One, go to juvenile detention as long as your sentence is, or..." He trailed off, seeming to consider something.

"Or what?" The blonde asked curiously.

He looked at her. "How would you feel about being a double agent?"

A smile flickered on Artemis' face. 

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