Everything had been laid out, and it took all of Alfred’s
“Englishness” to keep from smirking as the “Bat-Children” filed into the
breakfast room. Of course Master Bruce
had already ignored his breakfast and gone off with Mr. Kent to on official business. First in was Cassandra in her yoga pants and “Bat-babe”
sweater Miss Kyle had given her last Christmas.
She took the waiting glass of apple juice and the offered plate of eggs,
bacon and half bagel. Next in was young
Damian, already dressed in his t-shirt and jeans. Alfred just handed him a plate. The child went about fixing his own plate
before going to sit at the head of the table.
Alfred prepared the next plates as he heard the stumbling in the
hallway. Miss Gordon walked in wearing
Master Dick’s ‘Bad boys’ oversized t-shirt and little more from the looks of it
followed by Dick in a tank top and sweat pants.
Alfred handed them their plates and coffee. Some minutes later came master Tim and miss
Stephanie, Tim wearing the Tigger themed pajama bottoms and a tank top,
Stephanie wearing the Tigger themed pajama top.
Both were handed bowls of cereal.
“Did Bruce shrink?” Stephanie quipped.
“No, they just brought in the demonic doll as a place
filler,” Tim snickered.
“I am not a week willed fool like you Drake,” Damian
sneered, “Nor will I be seduced by your charms Brown.”
“Kid, at this point we are wondering if a lady will be
your kryptonite,” Barbara picked up the tablet laid out for her before
breathing, “Or if you will have the same taste in men as your mom.”
“What’s the news?” Steph translated Cassandra’s sign
langue.
“Notes from the JLA about a joint op going on,” Dick read
over Barbara’s shoulder, “Looks like Boy Scout is worried about phantom zone
goons… Hay Damian, maybe there will be a young Zod for you to date.”
“Why would I wish to date an alien?” Damian snapped.
“Kori has more humanity than you,” Barabara shrugged, “That’s
for sure. Speaking of the floosie, who
wants to ask her to stop naked sun bathing on Teen-Titan Tower? One, two,
three, not it!”
All of the other’s put their finger to their noses. All
except Tim.
“What about,” Tim looked at Alfred with his finger on his
nose, “Damn it.”
“Oh shit!” Barbara dropped her coffee on her scrambled
eggs, “A mayday beacon just went off on a Javelin!”
“How did that happen?” Tim asked, “Bad Weather?”
“Last data burst has something about a targeting lock,”
Dick looked at the data.
“Aren’t they invisible to all sensors?” Cassandra asked.
“Nothing is every completely invisible,” Dick said, “We
all should know that better than most.
Still how did they manage to defeat father’s second best camouflage
technology?”
“They don’t have to,” Alfred noted calmly, “The term I believe
is a ‘Sarajevo net’. President Clinton
had been using stealth aircraft to bomb key targets in the Balkans to force the
belligerents to stop, however they set up a trap using estimates of speed and
flight performance so when the target bridge exploded both ends of the valley erupted
in anti-air fire…”
“The only combat loss of a F-117 in US Air Force
operations,” Dick said.
“We should probably get started on having the mainframe
down stairs crunch the numbers,” Barbara sighed, “You can bet Bruce will be all
scowly and ‘I want answers!’ as soon as he gets in.”
Alfred had a mirth smile as he poured another cup of
coffee for Miss Barbara. He did so enjoy
the trust and team work of Master Bruce’s family… He couldn’t imagine anything creating suspicion
enough to tear it apart…