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Red Hood has been on the scene for a few months, and the Bats are no closer to capturing him than the day he appeared. Even discovering any truly meaningful information about him was proving to be a monumental task. What little they know is as follows:
. He’s highly skilled and extremely dangerous
. There’s no hesitation in his kills
. The gang he’s amassed is gaining traction and power by the day
. Hood protects the innocent and is unforgiving towards those who violate his rules
. He has some connection to Joker, but it’s clearly hatred rather than idolizing
. For some reason, he loathes the Bats
All in all, it was a bad situation for them, but they couldn’t let Hood run amok any longer. They needed a plan. One that unfortunately fell to Dick. With the state of Gotham, Bruce couldn’t leave his post as Batman and Tim was too young for an infiltration mission, so the only available person was Dick.
‘Whelp,’ he told his family without a touch of amusement, “I always wanted to be a gangster!”
Bruce did not look impressed.
______
The plan was relatively simple. Collect intel on Hood, report on his gang’s movements, and try to cause some sort of dissension among the Hood’s people. Simple!...or at least it was supposed to be. Apparently, the Red Hood was a ruthless crime lord, but overall a good boss. Hell, Dick, or Johnny as his ‘coworkers’ called him, kept hearing stories about how great the guy was. Derrick solemnly told him about the time Hood rescued his pregnant wife from Black Mask after she’d been abducted. Jimmy had been struggling to get clean, and Hood provided the resources for him to rehabilitate and then offered him a job. And that’s without Garret reverently recounting the tale of how he’d been aiding Hood in a bust and would’ve died if the crime lord hadn’t taken the bullet for him.
Dick was skeptical about the selflessness several goons insisted Hood had, and he was suspicious that they were simply paid off to say these things in order to instill loyalty within the gang. Even though Hood had shown some vigilante tendencies, that didn’t mean he held the same protectiveness for his grunts.
Overall, there was an annoying amount of awe and respect among Red Hood’s forces. So much so, that this was proving to be far more difficult than Dick had anticipated. Most Gotham crooks signed up with a boss who paid well, allowed them to do despicable things, or threatened them into submission. There was rarely any real loyalty until you climbed your way to the inner circle. But the vast majority of Hood’s people were firm in their decision to follow their boss’ orders to the letter. Sure, there are always the outliers who are power hungry and receptive to what Dick was saying, but overall he was far less successful than he had hoped. Most people he attempted to sway simply gave him an odd look before changing the topic.
While it was incredibly frustrating that he’d only sowed dissension toward the Hood within a mere seven or so people, he was determined to continue with his mission. Even if he couldn’t convince the gang to stage a coup and dismantle both the Hood’s and his gang’s power, at the very least he could continue gathering information.
_______
Unfortunately, Dick’s not so subtle bias against the Hood had made it so very few people were willing to give him any real information. He was told when to show up for work, and he wasn’t filled in on what the job was until it was time to do said job. It was insanely frustrating, and Dick was starting to wonder if he should just call in the Bats to raid the one singular headquarters they knew of and move on to a different plan. After all, he was making next to no progress and was proving to be nothing more than a waste of Dick’s time. He was also getting sick of helping build Hood’s little empire…and doing crime. That definitely wasn’t his favorite.
On this particular night, he’d strolled into the warehouse base to find the entire place thrown into commotion. People were racing around more than usual and the drum of conversation was louder than usual. And now that he’s looking, there’s more people here than he’s used to. Several of them he doesn’t recognize, but a couple newcomers he does identify as core members of Hood’s operation. There are only three, two men and a woman, but seeing as no one with any sort of critical role visits this base, it means something’s cooking.
Dick was going to step outside to call this in, but Carlton spots him and immediately calls him over with an insistent “Johnny! Get over here!” Sighing internally, Dick makes his way over to the small huddle of people he frequently worked with. The group was made up of predominantly somewhat older men who’d more or less chosen to adopt him. They fretted over his blatant dislike of Hood and the fact that he was an idealist when it came to crime. That was without mentioning how heartbroken they were over his backstory given that he’d only taken to crime after Joker had destroyed the family business he’d inherited after a rogue attack killed his father and left him the sole caretaker of his little brother.
Dick felt a bit guilty about the lie because it was sickeningly similar to some of his new friends’ actually real origins. Especially in Carlton’s case, who lost his brother and sister in law to a Joker attack recently and left him raising his orphaned nephew alone and fretting over his survival every day. Apparently, while the boy’s father had been murdered by the Joker himself, his mother had died from an allergic reaction to Joker Toxin, which meant the kid could be allergic as well. And since there was no way to test the suspension, Carlton was constantly on edge when it came to anything Joker related.
The second Dick got close enough to the gaggle of people, Henry grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into the group, carefully looking around to make sure none of the newcomers were nearby. In a low, worried tone, he said, “Johnny, we all know you don’t like Hood, but you need to keep your trap shut today. Something big’s going down, and our section has been chosen for the mission.”
“Keep your head down and just follow orders,” Carlton added desperately while the others nodded along. “You need this job for your little brother, and no other gang will take after working for Hood if you get yourself fired.”
Shrugging Henry’s hand off his shoulder and lifting his hands up placatingly, Dick says,”Relax guys, I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise! But what exactly is going on?”
Vinny opened his mouth to reply, but a loud banging shut him and the rest of the warehouse up. Turning toward the sound, Dick was shocked to see the Red Hood himself standing on the second floor balcony just outside the office. The rogue had casually put one boot on the lower railing and was resting an elbow on his knee while overlooking his goons, calmly waiting for all attention to turn to him, which didn’t take long.
Once it was quiet, Hood loudly called in his mechanized voice, “Alright, I’m sure you’re all wondering what’s going on tonight since only a select few were informed ahead of time. Long story short, Black Mask has been antagonizing us more than usual and is trying to move in on our turf. We’ve tried to be as civil as rival gangs can be, but he’s gone too far. It’s about time we teach him a lesson, don’t you think?”
A loud roar rose up from the crowd below in response, and Dick could literally feel the energy in the air. The Red Hood was their hero, and Black Mask was their sworn enemy, so whatever they were enthusiastic at the prospect of sticking it to the false faces. But Dick was simply concerned. Whatever was going down tonight would be dangerous, and despite his coworkers being crooks, he didn’t want any of them to get hurt or worse.
There would most definitely be lethal force involved in this mission, and Dick wouldn’t be surprised if at best a handful of their numbers were hospitalized or killed. At worst, a good chunk of them could be wiped out. Gritting his teeth, Dick swore to himself that he wouldn’t let that happen. Screw the mission, it was a bust anyway. There were so many good people here who had just been dealt a bad hand in life. If they had been born anywhere but Gotham, they would’ve lived a good life and never turned to crime. They didn’t deserve to die because of Hood’s schemes.
Dick tuned back in just in time to hear Hood lay out the plan. Black Mask had set up a warehouse base of his own concerningly close to theirs. Hood suspected that the sadist knew where their current base was and did this to taunt them while simultaneously moving in on his turf. So, the obvious course of action is to raid the base and blow it up. Because of course it is, this is a Gotham turf war.
Before Dick knew it, he was being shepherded into a van by his self-appointed babysitters, speeding through Gotham’s streets, and then unloaded around the corner from their target. Sighing, Dick reluctantly took out his gun and prepared to head in with the rest of his group. Hood had planned a multipoint assault in hopes of catching the false facers off guard and cornering them. It was a tactically sound strategy given the layout of the building, but Dick was skeptical on how well it would play out. Hood’s men were gangsters, not soldiers. Any number of things could go wrong.
Discreetly swapping his bullets out for rubber ones, he follows his coworkers into the building once Hood signals the start of the assault. At first, everything was going well and the false facers were being pushed back, but Dick’s corner was starting to be overwhelmed when reinforcements arrived from somewhere else in the building.
Henry cried out in surprise when a grenade came a little too close for comfort, and Jimmy swore colorfully when his gun jammed. Overall, things were going south, and Dick seriously considered dropping the gun and pulling out Nightwing. But he didn’t have the chance, because all of a sudden Hood appeared out of literal nowhere and roughly slammed into Dick with his entire weight.
Dick hit the ground hard, and his first reaction was shock tinged with fear. Did Hood somehow figure out that he was Nightwing despite the disguise? If so, he wouldn’t be surprised if Hood was going to execute him right then and there.
But instead, when he looks up at the man standing over him in preparation to defend himself he was shocked to see the crime lord stumble backwards. It takes Dick a second to notice the blood oozing from the fresh bullet wound in his chest. Ice slid down his spine as Dick realized that Hood had pushed him out of the way of a bullet. One that would have buried itself in his skull if the rogue hadn’t intervened.
The wound was nasty, something that Dick could tell even from the ground, and he fully expected Hood to collapse. Instead, he heard a ragged, crackly groan from the man’s voice modulator before he growled, “Move!” Before Dick could react, a large hand had grabbed the back of his jacket and hauled him behind cover.
“Carlton!” Hood barked. “Keep an eye on him while I get rid of this vermin.”
The man in question hurried to Dick’s side before asking Hood, “You going to be okay boss?” Clearly, Dick was not the only one worried about the gushing hole in the crime lord’s chest. Hell, it’s a miracle Hood’s even still awake, especially with how close the injury is to his heart. Who knows what kind of damage is beneath all that body armor.
“Fine,” Hood replied shortly before storming off, murderous intent oozing off of his form. Dick tried to get up to…do something. He wasn’t sure if it was to save the false facers or make sure Hood didn’t get himself killed right after saving his life, but Carlton put a heavy hand on his shoulder and pushed him back against the crate he was leaning on.
“Don’t you dare!” Carlton said sternly. “Hood gave a direct order to stay put, and I’m not risking his ire after he got a hole blown in his chest! Damnit, Vanessa is going to kill us when she hears Hood got hurt protecting our crew.” Dick almost chuckled at the thought of their short but fiery lieutenant who was absolutely devoted to Hood and his cause, but cut it off at the thought of her and the other Hood fanatics who’d be devastated if Hood died. They’d lose not only their leader and their livelihood, but a boss who seemed to actually care about them.
Damnit. He was starting to worry about Hood too.
When he slipped out of Carlton’s grip intending to help Hood, he was shocked to see that the man was moving like he hadn’t taken a potentially lethal bullet wound. There was barely a hitch in his movements as he absolutely decimated his opponents. Dick was also slightly surprised to see that while did straight out kill several people, most he just knocked out…or maimed. That happened too. When some masks flew off, he could identify some of the dead as those guilty of some truly horrible things while those alive had less remarkable criminal records. Something to think about.
It was over within seconds, and after asking about the status of other locations over his comms and hearing that the warehouse was his, then, and only then, did he place a shaky hand over his bullet wound and sag a bit.
Henry carefully made his way over to Hood’s side and offered some gauze from a first aid kit he always carried. With a huffed and barely there chuckle, Hood took the gauze with a grunted thanks and jammed it into his wound.
After briefly deliberating if he should or not, Dick spit out, “I can stitch that up for you if you’d like? I took a few first aid courses back in the day.”
Hood made to wave him off, calmly telling Dick he’d take care of it himself, when his knee momentarily buckled beneath him. The rogue barely caught himself on a nearby crate and succeeded in scaring the living daylights out of his loyal followers who began insisting on Dick fixing him up and begging him to take it easy for the moment.
Groaning in annoyance, Hood bit out, “Fine!” before hobbling to a secluded corner and ordering Dick’s crewmembers to patrol the area and alert him if anything seemed off. After barking more orders over the comm, Hood stared at Dick, radiating grumpiness even through the mask.
With a nervous chuckle, Dick said, “Mind taking your chest plate off so I can take a look at the wound? I’ve never had to remove a chest plate before, and I’ve heard rumors that yours is boobytrapped!”
“Rumors?” Hood replied as he reluctantly worked on his armor. “If you run with my gang you should’ve been informed that every piece of my armor is most definitely boobytrapped.”
Pulling out various first aid supplies from the first aid kit Henry had shoved into his hands, Dick asked jokingly, “What kind of trap would you even put in your helmet? Sounds sketchy to have anything too dangerous on your head!”
“A bomb,” Hood said nonchalantly as he leaned in close. Dick paled at that, hoping it was a joke, but Hood was far too serious to do that. It got worse when Hood continued in an odd tone Dick couldn’t place, “I’ve heard some rumors too. Something about a Johnny hating the Red Hood despite running in my gang. Know anything about that?”
Dick gulped nervously. “I may have warmed up to you a bit. Besides, your gang seemed to be the least dangerous out of any of them.”
“It is so long as you follow orders and don’t, I don’t know, try to turn my own men against me?”
This was getting dangerous, and Dick didn’t doubt that Hood would still be a formidable opponent even in his current state. It could turn lethal for him in a matter of seconds. “I admit, I made some mistakes, but I wasn’t trying to do something so stupid. I just wanted to figure out why everyone was so fanatically loyal to you. I swear I won’t cause any more problems!”
Hood stared at him in eerie silence for another minute before growling, “Good. But know that I’ll be keeping an eye on you. If you cause problems for me or anyone else in my gang, know that you’ll be doing nothing more than sowing the seeds of your own destruction. Understood?”
Nodding emphatically, Hood said, “Good. Now get to work.” With that, the man pulled his chestplate off and revealed the scarred skin beneath. The sight ripped the breath out of Dick’s lungs because what it implied was truly awful. Scars years old littered the man’s skin, telling a story of pain and misery. Clear marks of old torture crisscrossed still raised and red wounds he must’ve gotten right before or early on in his appearance in Gotham.
But the worst of it all was the Y scar carved down the length of his torso. Dick wasn’t sure how anyone could survive something so horrific, and all he could do was pray that the man had been unconscious when it had been inflicted.
Realizing that he’d be berated if he stared any longer, Dick got to work on the gaping wound. It was deep, but thankfully too high to hit anything important. It was also high enough that Dick didn’t know how Hood was going to treat it himself. The wound was right below his clavicle, and it’d be incredibly difficult to treat it alone even with a mirror.
It took several minutes to fish the bullet out, but Hood didn’t even flinch while Dick got it out. It was unnerving, and he would’ve wondered if the other man was even awake if the guy wasn’t sitting ramrod straight against the wall.
At long last, Hood was patched up, and the man was strapping his armor back on. When he was done, Hood addressed Dick once more. “Good work,” came the abrupt token of gratitude before Hood stormed off shouting orders to move supplies and set charges.
Jimmy came rushing over to drag a baffled Dick out of the warehouse, questioning everything that had happened between them the entire way. Dick halfheartedly answered the questions while his mind was a million miles away.
He’d finally made contact with Hood, and there was far more beneath the surface of the mab than he’d anticipated, especially if all the stories he’d heard about the man’s heroic exploits were true. And that level of pain tolerance he saw may indicate that Hood’s a meta, something they definitely need to know if that’s true.
Guess he’d have to continue with the mission. And if he was lucky, maybe he could climb the ranks and take down Hood from the inside.