Barbara Gordon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
twiceahero) wrote2009-01-28 10:35 am
twiceahero) wrote2009-01-28 10:35 am
Entry tags:
The noose tightens
Barbara is ensconced in her backup-backup-backup command center. Which was worrying. She only has one more fall-back plan, and that is so desperate that she'll try everything else before resorting to it. Apparently she cares more about her secret identity than she thought.
It doesn't help that she's lost contact with pretty much everyone. Dick and Robin are having transport problems, and Dinah's lying low or unconscious or something. Everyone else she might call in has something slightly higher-priority to deal with than saving a girl in a wheelchair, so she sits and stares at her screens.
The bad guys found her last net-drop five minutes ago, and that means their next stop will be here. Whoever Blockbuster has tracing her is good, and she suspects that they've managed to get their hands on some of her hardware, maybe from Dick's car, which has only made it that much easier for them. It's almost time to get dressed for company.
But first... Just in case... Barbara pulls up a new file and starts typing. (Funny, for all her contingency plans, she's never felt the need to set this up before...)
To: Dick, Bruce, and whoever Robin is these days
This message is set to auto-send itself to you if I fail to log into my systems for more than 24-hours. If you're reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong. I assume you're looking into it already.
Even if I'm not around I can still be useful. The data I've collected over the years is still a useful tool, so you'll need access to it. Use it to carry on my work. My father doesn't know it, but he has all my passwords and encryption keys. Everything you need to get started is written on the back of the framed picture of me on his desk at Police HQ.
I guess this is my last will and testament and all that, huh?
Well... keep up the good fight for me.
Love,
Babs
It doesn't help that she's lost contact with pretty much everyone. Dick and Robin are having transport problems, and Dinah's lying low or unconscious or something. Everyone else she might call in has something slightly higher-priority to deal with than saving a girl in a wheelchair, so she sits and stares at her screens.
The bad guys found her last net-drop five minutes ago, and that means their next stop will be here. Whoever Blockbuster has tracing her is good, and she suspects that they've managed to get their hands on some of her hardware, maybe from Dick's car, which has only made it that much easier for them. It's almost time to get dressed for company.
But first... Just in case... Barbara pulls up a new file and starts typing. (Funny, for all her contingency plans, she's never felt the need to set this up before...)
To: Dick, Bruce, and whoever Robin is these days
This message is set to auto-send itself to you if I fail to log into my systems for more than 24-hours. If you're reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong. I assume you're looking into it already.
Even if I'm not around I can still be useful. The data I've collected over the years is still a useful tool, so you'll need access to it. Use it to carry on my work. My father doesn't know it, but he has all my passwords and encryption keys. Everything you need to get started is written on the back of the framed picture of me on his desk at Police HQ.
I guess this is my last will and testament and all that, huh?
Well... keep up the good fight for me.
Love,
Babs
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It's possible she should have gone for the fastest car, not the sexiest, but she likes this one, it's purple.
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"What's that?"
Computer noises are not good.
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"Just a minor emergency I need to take care of. Oracle out," she thinks she manages to sound casual. And she hopes Dinah is serious about hurrying.
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Hang in there, Oracle.