Two Assassins

Prudence Woods, agent with the League of Assassins, meets Lo Nang, former agent with the Chinese Secret Service. 
Written in Discord, predominantly on Capes & Coffee. 
Pru's not in the area for any particular reason, but Nang still sits down at her table and greets her with, “You’re going to give me your devices and your credentials.”
"How about I don't."
Nang nudges Pru's knee with the butt of their knife. "How about you do."
"You get who I work for, right, love?"
"The infant daughter of my assignment has been kidnapped. I will move mountains to retrieve her. Your credentials."
Pru unlocks her mobile, connects to the LoA network, and hands it over. "And your intel won't work because ...?"
Nang takes it. "Either thé responsible party was just incredibly lucky to strike while their security was away, or they knew I wouldn't be present."
The mobile buzzes. 
[blocked]: Timothy, while I trust you have a cunning scheme behind your connecting this device to an unsecured public WiFi, I’m certain you can implement it without leaving Prudence’s mobile vulnerable. 
Nang hands the mobile back. "Answer."
"I'll do ya one better, Spooky." Pru plugs in her earbuds (tho she only puts in one ear) and taps her mobile. "Hey, Boss? I've been conscripted into another search and rescue mission—has nothing to do with Birdbrain, I'm pretty sure, so you’d be better off calling someone else if he needs peeling off the sidewalk."
A moment. 
"Yea, I'll text him. Catch ya later." Then Pru disconnects. "And would ya look at that, my week's all opened up."
From what Nang knew of the leader of the League of Assassins (which isn't much—they spent a week studying the organisation in training, and Nang's assignments never overlapped substantially with those of LoA agents), this behaviour is uncharacteristically amenable. 
Nang smiles. “I'm not inviting you.”
“Good.” Pru shoulders her bag. “I'm not askin’.”
.
Once they leave the shop, Nang leads them to a safehouse, and pulls out a disguise box. 
Pru ends up with an angular black wig, aviator sunglasses, and a tilly hat, and when Nang takes her chin, says, "I'm only putting up with this because I'm not interested in gettin' dead."
Nang grins. "Good answer." and paints Pru's mouth like a China doll's. 
Once Nang's equally made themselves over, they link their arm with Pru's, and they stroll to the car park, find a car (possibly a specific car, but it could just be left unlocked), and hit the road. 
They're on the second hour of their drive when Pru's mobile makes tweety bird sounds:
real red robin: since when do u take vacations? 
So Birdbrain managed an entire week without a grievous injury, good to know. She spares a thought as to who Ra’s got to keep him company in her stead. 
Or, come to think of it, Birdy just broke into a base and for some reason Ra’s volunteered her absence. 
Red creeps through a dark space.
”If you’re seeking Prudence,” intones Ra’s, “She’s taken a leave of absence in China.”
Red's is an exaggerated sad face. 
“Please go there and not destroy anything here.”''
Anyway, 
Pru Pru fingerguns: excuse U i have gone /rogue
Pru Pru fingerguns: im helping save someone
real red robin: w/o ME? OnO
Pru isn't quite sure how to reply to that. Fortunately—
real red robin: cass says she can come
real red robin: ill send her your way?
Pru asks, "Wanna recruit a vigilante?"
"Not particularly," replies Nang. "My plan only calls for one person."
"Cool."
Pru Pru fingerguns: why the fuck not 
real red robin: sounds good 
real red robin: shell meet u tonite
Pru Pru fingerguns: 👍 
Pru doesn't spend much time wondering how Tim knows more or less where she is or where she'll be later, though she's amused by the thought of them missing each other completely. 
Pru asks, "Want me to take over?"
Nang shakes their head but, "Maybe in an hour."
Pru hums, pulls her hat down over her face, and settles back into her seat.
.
Nang takes back the wheel when they reach the city limits, and drives them to a nondescript block of flats. 
They get out of the car—Nang seems a lot less stiff than Pru, but their eyes and mouth are very tight, so they're probably just not noticing. 
Pru follows them into the building, up the stairs to the third floor, and to a door halfway between the stairs and elevator—
Nang unlocks the door—"Someone’s here."
"Probably just Cass." Pru brushes past and dumps her rucksack. "Hey, Cass."
From an easy chair in the main space, "Cass" stands. 
Nang closes and locks the door, and faces the newcomer. "Cassandra Wayne."
"Special agent Lo," greets Cass, and she bows. 
Nang nods in reply, and goes to the kitchentte. 
Cassandra Wayne, adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne ... and brother to Timothy Drake-Wayne. 
Likely the same "Timothy" named by "R" in that message to Pru. 
Who continues, "Heard ya had some quiet time."
Cass nods. "Cricket is sick." She hands Pru a bag. 
Pru investigates—"Biscuits!" She grins. "Knew I kept Birdy around for something." 
Cass giggles, and Pru offers the bag (minus a package of biscuits) to Nang. 
They accept it: balaclavas, dark clothing, and power bars in crinkle-free wrapping. Nang exhales their ire and says, "This will save me some time, thank you."
Cass smiles warmly, and gathers a second bag: "Supper."
Unironically, Pru coos, "I love ya."
. 
[this segment needs more Cass]
When they leave a couple hours later, Nang takes the wheel again, and they swing by what seems to be an infrequently used safehouse, based on the traces of dust on the duffle bag they retrieve. 
They don't stay there long; either because someone else is staying there (and to be honest, the BatBoys are the only people Pru knows who keep exclusive safehouses; the ones she uses are all shared by at least one other assassin), it's in a bad location, or Nang doesn’t want to stay in a place that could conceivably be known to the mole. 
And besides, why stay at their own safehouse when they can politely order Pru to drive the three of them to an LoA maintained space? 
Pru does, because she"s invested in this mission and doesn"t want to give Nang any reason to give her the boot, and because she also needs to grab gear.
Two safehouses later, Nang deems the space acceptable. The space, in this case, is a one room, industrial flat, with exposed concrete and plumbing. 
Cass magicks a rug from somewhere, unrolls it, and pats the space beside her. 
Pru nods to a door. "Just gonna use the loo."
Cass nods, and gets to digging through her bag. 
Nang's sectioned off their own area, though Pru does still have to pass them by. 
As she does, she idly glances at the screen of Nang's tablet.
They’re watching a CCTV feed of a nursery: soft, blue grey rug sprinkled with delicate flowers, an elegant, white crib beneath a mobile dripping with stars and and moons dancing around a lovely princess. The walls seem a bit dark for a nursery - a kind of evening sky blue, but the kind of sky Pru's only seen in the middle of nowhere: the window wall has more stars than Pru could ever count, while the Milky Way slashes across the crib wall. 
"Moon garden," explains Nang. 
"It's cute," says Pru. 
Nang hums. 
On screen, a regal looking woman sits in a palette appropriate wingback chair, ankles crossed, reading a report, and occasionally remembering her cup of tea. 
She attends something off camera, bids them to enter. 
An underling scurries in with a deep bow, humbly offers a tablet. 
The woman takes it and dismisses them, and puts the tablet on the side table--
Her gaze lands on the crib. 
She sighs, and returns to the report. 
Nang gently touches the screen. 
Pru continues to the washroom.
.
Between the three of them, they have Cass's futuristic WE / Batman Inc gear that she brought with her from Hong Kong, Pru's better-than-current kit from a LoA supply depot, and Nang's somewhat outdated stuff from the safehouse. 
Cass immediately trades hers with Nang. 
They reply, "I would prefer not to be beholden to you."
Cass puts their goggles in her lap, closes Nang's hands around her mask, and smiles. 
"Thank you," replies Nang. 
The three then peer at the building: nine heat signatures active in the main space, four more lying down, and one pacing far away from their others, misshapen with a very warm blob. 
"Big group fer a baby," Pru remarks. 
Nang's look sends a chill down her spine. "That baby is the only child of my assignment, First Sergeant Xiong Li-hua, who is one of the eight generals with the People's Liberation Army of China."
'Oh,' says Pru. But the sound may have died in her throat. 
Pru knew Nang's "assignment" was a high level army person, but the brief didn't impress upon her just /how high ranking. 
Everything—why some army woman had an assassin as a PA, especially—makes so much more sense now. 
"What's thé plan?" asks Pru. 
"I go in the front door," says Nang. 
"Can ya take all them?" asks Pru, already knowing the answer. 
"Yes," replies Nang. 
"Backup," states Cass, not offering because Nang would very likely reject it, and then get snippy when Pru and Cass join her anyway. 
Pru drawls, "Does yer plan account for three?"
"/I go in the front door," answers Nang. 
"Surprise, "counters Cass. "Less injuries."
"Ill neutralise them quickly either way."
"Questioning," Cass points out. 
"/Neutralising," Nang stresses. 
"I'll take responsibility," Cass promises. 
Pru suggests, "If you two are doin' that ninja shtick, I'll go 'round the back 'n secure the kid."
From this distance, Nang can put a knife in Pru's eye in half a second. 
Cass tilts her head. 
Nang says, "Fine." 
Cass smiles, pleased.
Pru offers, looking at Nang, "Shall we?"
Cass moves a hand to her bag. 
Nang acknowledges, but sits back on their heels. "I will make one thing very clear."
Cass takes her hand off her bag. 
"My one and only goal for this operation is the safety and extraction of my assignment's child. Everything else is secondary: my life, your survival, potential interrogations; none of that matters."
"How're ya supposed ta get the kid back if you're dead?"
Nang looks at her. "My own survival is secondary. As long as the child is returned to my assignment safe, it will be acceptable for me to then expire from my injuries."
It’s the same kind of look Pru's seen on Tim's face; the look that makes her want to throttle him into comprehending that people do care about him, that they would be all the poorer for having lost him, that he cannot die, he cannot leave her too—doesn’t he realise he's all she has left? 
But Nang is a spy and an assassin and has likely seen themselves as disposable and replaceable for years. 
Pru wonders if their "assignment" feels the same way.
(Ra’s doesn’t, or at least he’s told her—in person and to her face (and even sent her a signed and sealed letter to keep with her papers)—that her good standing with Red that she could go so far as to commit treason—up to and including attacking Ra’s, the god king, in front of witnesses—without reprimand.
However, he would say all that to whoever was in her position, so technically her replacability has nothing to do with her—a slight sour note—but in the universe, the person in her position /is her, and so she is unique and invaluable. But now's not the time—)
Nang continues: “We will have no help from my organisation, nor from the army, government, or police. If anything happens to either of you, I will leave you behind, and I will not send for help until I have met my objective.”
"I wasn't expectin' help in the first place," says Pru. 
Cass agrees. 
Nang huffs, then, "And here I was hoping that would discourage you."
Pru scoffs. "I'm travellin' with a fake passport; ya can't really expect I'd /welcome a Suit." 
Nang concedes, then From their go bag, Nang withdraws a shirt and hands it to Pru. “This belongs to my assignment; it may help calm the baby down."
Pru stifles a sigh, drops her bag, and shrugs the shirt on. "Anything for the bean."
"Good," says Nang. They retrieve another item, a soft, green bunny plush. 
Pru is so glad no one around here knows her and can thus tell stories about that time Prudence went on a raid with a stuffed toy. 
"This is Yutu," explains Nang. "She can speak—"
This just keeps getting better and better. 
(Cass sparkles!!!)
"—and she's Fei Yen’s best friend and confidant—"
"She’s barely a year old!"
"—who will certainly help keep Fei Yen calm."
Pru concéda, and tucks Thé shirt and the rabbit in her bag. 
When she straightens, Nang puts a hand on her arm. 
Pru attends. 
"When this is over," promises Nang. "I will find you."
Pru doesn't gulp. She just nods. 
Nang drops their hand, and looks back at the building. 
Showtime.
.
As she scales the building, Pru admits to herself that she really doesn't mind avoiding a physical conflict with Nang. 
While they were in the washroom that morning, Pru had booted up a video of Nang’s training days that had ~mysteriously~ appeared on her mobile overnight. (Yay!, for ninja watching her every move and system administrators with at least two brain cells! (Possibly even, Ra’s chose his secretaries very well.))
In the clip, Nang stands on a mat in a gym, stance loose and receptionist's almost smile in place. 
Someone off camera calls to them, Nang replies back with a laugh. 
Then, over the next nine seconds, Nang, who, according to the brief, specialises in covert operations, systematically takes out eleven 'attackers' and doesn't even break a sweat. 
Much as she pretends otherwise, Pru is a big enough person to know when she's out-classed. (She has Birdy to thank for that.) And in a fight with Nang, even if they're on the same side? Pru is woefully out of her depth. 
Like if Nang decided she's too much of a threat to let live, Pru wouldn't stand a chance. It would be so /easy for them, in the middle of the upcoming fight, to pull their knife from a goon, sink it into Pru's throat {without a second thought}, and carry on like this is just another training exercise. 
(Pru figures Cass will be fine: she's not an assassin, and she can probably take Nang, and despite the lack of pan-Asian experience, Nang and Cass are more akin than Pru and either of them.) 
Better to end things with Nang when their arms are full of infant!
Pru rappelles four floors down from the roof of the office building to the window closest to where they had marked the wonky heat signature, three floors above the ground. 
Beyond the glass is a small room in which a woman with tense shoulders and a ramrod straight spine paces quickly from one side of the space to the other—
She’s clutching a wailing infant to her chest.
Bingo.
The woman freezes, eyes on Pru. 
Pru waves. 
The woman rushes the window—
Pru readies a knife—
The woman puts her hand on the glass, eyes wide and full of fear, and mouths, ‘Help me!’
Pru nods—
The woman starts to cry. 
The baby’s head flops back as they scream.
Pru ... leans back and looks at the windows on either side, then pulls out a permanent marker and draws an arrow pointing to the left, and then points to herself. 
The woman nods frantically. 
Pru writes the character for ‘sentry’ and a question mark. 
The woman swallows, nods. 
Still screaming, the baby flaps an arm.
Pru writes a ‘1’—
The woman taps the glass. 
—and a ‘2’—
The woman taps the ‘1’. 
Pru gives her a thumbs up—
The baby swallows compulsively, eyes falling open—
Pru points at the woman—
The baby notices Pru. 
—holds up a hand, and says, “Wait.”
Because the baby isn’t crying, the quiet might attract the guard, how does Pru get the baby to cry again—
The woman clutches the baby—
The baby dissolves into a fresh bout of wailing. 
The woman grimaces, but nods again. 
Pru pushes over to the next window, and jimmies open the egress pane. She climbs through, hooks her line to the frame, and listens. 
Baby crying. 
Goggles it is. 
Pru turns them on, and looks around. 
Woman and very unhappy baby in the next room whiiiich—
Pru smirks. 
—is watched by only one guard. 
Cake fucking walk. 
Thank you, lady.
Pru scuttles to the door, and unlatches the door. 
It swings in, the creak likely drowned TKT by the baby’s crying.
Pru flicks a knife from its holster, steals from the room and down the hall, and grabs the guy from behind with a hand over their mouth and slits their throat. 
They struggle for a moment but soon go limp. 
Pru ... shuffles around, and drags—lowers the body somewhat and lifts them into a fireman’s carry, and pads farther down the hall to the first door past the holding room. She tries the door—also unlocked, also excellent - lowers the body to the floor, and closes the door behind her. 
It’s dark in the building and night outside; any blood on her clothes should be concealed, and she didn’t feel anything drip on her skin. 
Her clothes! 
Pru digs the shirt from her bag and slings it over her shoulders. She jogs back down the hall, picks - knocks on the door and calls, “It’s me.”
TBC
…
epilogue
Tam greets Tim as he limps from the elevator, and then warns, “Pru’s in your office and she’s been happier.”
Tim runs through a list of everything he’s done since he last saw her—almost a month ago!—and draws a blank as to what he did. 
“Good luck!” Tam chirps, and gets his office door for him. 
Tim does not timidly enter his own office. Definitely not. 
Pru is, in fact, sitting in his fancy office chair at his desk, flipping a knife, and scowling at the wall monitor like it had personally done her an offence. 
(Which is not beyond the realm of possibility.)
Tim flicks his eyes between her and the screen—playing a news clip of some high ranking Chinese official speaking at the UN. 
Pru says, “I don’t like it when assassins who aren’t assassins get in my bubble.”
Tim ... nods at the woman at the Center of the segment, now warmly accepting a small child-sized bundle of dresses from a man the ticker tape explains is her husband. 
“No,” growls Pru. “The stick beside her.”
Who, in Tim’s defence, he had noticed but he’d paid more attention to the fact a high ranking official could emote and also is that child actually wearing three dresses? 
“The PA?” he asks. 
Pru’s scowl darkens. 
Tim muses, “Personal ... assassin? Like how Z and Tiffany will definitely have a gaggle of executive assassins?”
Pru doesn’t even crack a smile.
“So your bubble is the entire north eastern seaboard?” Tim asks. 
Pru gives him a look. “D’you really think they couldn’t manage a two hour round trip?”
“I mean, they do have to personally assist someone with an insanely packed schedule.”
“One of the meetings this week is four hours long.”
Tim ... “Yea, that is a pretty good window.”
“‘Sides, for all their faults, the UN building is actually damn near impenetrable.”
“Contrary to what marvel movies would lead one to believe.” Tin rocks on his heels. “You know this from experience.”
Pru snorts. 
“Okay,” says Tim. “Thank you for being here, I really appreciate you having my back.”
Pru grunts. 
“I do have to get to work, tho; should I go to Tam’s office?”
Pru grumbles but shoves herself to standing and thumps back down on the couch.
It’s somewhat of a sunny day, so Tam comes in at lunch with strict instructions to get out of the office and get some sun. 
“But assassins!” Tim protests. 
(Pru still doesn’t even chuckle.)
“Good thing you have Pru and who knows how many ninja covering you,” Tam says sweetly. “Now get your pasty ass outside and get some vitamin D.”
So Tim and Pru go outside.
“How bout him?” asks Tim, nodding to a nearby food truck. “He's legit.” 
Pru grunts, glowering at a group of tourists, but she sticks by his side as he navigates the sidewalk traffic. 
“Seen anything weird?” Tim asks, handing the owner cash for their food and a substantial tip. 
The owner shrugs. “Weird? Yes.” Gestures to the crowd, as if to say ‘for example’: “Tourists. Gotham weird?” shrugs again. “No one’s been in or out except me n the crew, the Geiger counter ain’t made more of a peep than any other Tuesday, ‘n all the grub’s passed fume tests.”
“Feel better?” Tim asks Pru, taking their food. He nods goodbye to the owner, who nods back, and makes his way to the crosswalk. 
“We ruled out food, whoop de doo,” snarls Pru. 
“I would say ‘actually, we ruled out outside influences in the food’ but that guy keeps his place squeaky clean.” 
The light changes; Tim, Pru, and part of the Gotham lunchtime crowd cross. 
“Ye really aren’t makin’ me feel better about this,” drawls Pru. 
“Would anything make you feel better?” asks Tim. 
Pru scowls.
They cross one more street, and then Tim leads them to a park bench set under a tree. That same tree also blocks a direct line of sight between him and a couple office buildings. 
“Oh hey,” he grins, nudging Pru’s arm and looking at a tourist with a khaki Tilly hat, oversized sunglasses, a beige and black plaid skirt, knee high black socks, and loafers. “She’s wearing a Red Robin hoodie.”
“How cool,” Pru says flatly. 
That stings, but Tim pretends that she’d be full of mockery if she weren’t humouring her paranoia.
They eat in silence, until that tourist plunks down on the empty seat beside Tim—
He goes very still, Pru’s got a hand on her knife. 
—and drapes herself against his side. “Prudence.”
Pru exhales through her teeth. “Lo.”
The tourist—Lo?—looks at Tim. “Timothy.”
He raises a hand. “Hi?”
The tourist looks back at Pru. “Everything has been tidied and I will not hear from you again.”
Pru exhales thé tension in her spine and releases her knife. “Ya couldn’t’ve just called?”
The tourist just tilts her head, a delicate frowning creasing her, frankly, perfect application of lipstick. 
Pru scoffs. “‘a course not.”
“Besides,” says the tourist, uncurling her legs, “Cassandra promised me a spar.”
To Pru, Tim—almost apologizes, “She is in town for a couple weeks.”
Pru crosses her arms. “How convenient.” Then she leans forward, and asks around Tim, “Hong Kong ain’t good enough for ya?”
The tourist sparkles. “But Prudence, if we met in Hong Kong, I would have to arrest her.”
Tim concedes her point. 
Pru’s mouth twists in a sneer, 
“Still, Surprised ya’d let Feiji outta sight so soon.” 
The tourist shrugs, now near-sprawled with one arm thrown partially over Tim’s shoulders. “They’re attending a VIP Lion King Experience.” Picks at a fingernail. “I vetted the cast, all the crew and the custodial staff, and everyone attending the seminar.”
“Thorough,” says Tim. 
The tourist smiles thinly.
“That’s all very nice,” Pru says sweetly. Then snaps, “Are we done here?” 
The tourist swings their head around and looks right at Pru. “I’ll leave when I want to.”
Pru makes a face and slouches against the bench. 
Tim asks, “Walked into that one?”
Pru gives him a dirty look.
Research: 
Sept19: upset toddler, actions for an upset toddler
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