Cracks in The Wall

Chapter Twelve

Clint and Cass sat at a stop light in the old car. The awkward silence between the two was slowly killing Clint. He couldn't stand the lack of conversation, but even more so, he didn't trust the woman beside him, and the silence left him feeling on edge. Eventually, he just couldn't take it anymore and broke the silence, if not for his own peace of mind, then to at least get some more information.

"So, you call yourself Black Bat. You mind if I ask why? Like why not Batgirl, or Batwoman or something?" Clint inquired as he and Cassandra made their way to the library. He was sure that she may get annoyed with the question, but her reaction could tell him a lot about her. Besides, it was in his nature to question things, and someone getting upset by this quality never stopped him in the past.

"Those positions are filled. By friends," Cassandra replied calmly.

"You guys must really like bats on your world," Clint commented, though his traveling companion didn't acknowledge the observation.

"Well, what about your name? I'm sure you weren't born as Black Bat."

Cass paused for a moment, thinking about how to respond, thinking about whether or not she even should at all.

"I have a secret identity, and now is not the time to reveal it," she replied meaningfully.

"Fair enough. Most people around here don't have secret identities, but there's still a lot of folks who do."

"Then why do so many of you wear masks still?"

"Sometimes it's for physical protection, or for a practical purpose, but mainly, it's symbolic. Our identities are public, but the mask obscures the person under it. The mask becomes a symbol. Something anyone could be. Something more than one person. It inspires something in people."

"I suppose I can relate. You spoke of how fond we are of bats on my world. Like how your mask inspires people, the bat inspires people too. In the innocent, it can mean hope, but in criminals… it inspires fear," she said with a certain finality that left Clint uneasy.

Despite this pit of concern growing in his stomach, he at least felt some solace in the fact that her wrath would only be directed at those who deserved it.

"Well… we've reached the library," Clint said, admittedly relieved at not needing to be stuck in his car with Cassandra any longer. "You think your friend is still here?

"Red Robin would have gathered information as quickly as possible and left. By this point, he's long gone. We may be able to trace what he did through the computer, however."

When they walked in, they made their way to the computers, which were in a side area. There were five rows of them, each with six PCs in them.

"Aw, crap. There's way too many here. It'll take forever to check these," Clint complained.

"Not necessarily. He'd pick the most secluded section to avoid detection," Cass replied.

"Makes sense. That eliminates any monitors facing the door, and any that have to be passed to get to other ones. That still leaves like three options though," Clint pointed out.

"Yes, and we'll only get one chance at this," Cass added.

"Wait, why only one? Can't you just hack in?" Clint asked, not expecting that extra layer of pressure.

"I am not a hacker, and even if you are, you likely wouldn't have much success anyway."

"I'm not that bad with computers. I'm no Tony Stark, but I've done my fair share with tech. What makes you think I couldn't get past?"