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Sighing morosely to himself, Dick continues moving boxes of illegal goods from the truck into the newly established storage warehouse. He now knew of a whopping two Red Wraith locations. He’s been working here for two months, and that’s all he’s gotten! He had heard rumors of at least three other bases and whispers of the prolific main headquarters, a place only the most skilled and loyal Wraiths were stationed, but rumors and hearsay didn’t help him take down Hood.
He mourned the lost opportunity a few weeks ago when he was physically in possession of Hood’s DNA. Unfortunately, someone from headquarters thoroughly ensured Dick wouldn’t be able to get so much as a single drop of blood back to the Bats. “You can never be too careful with how many people are gunning for Hood!” the middle aged man had cheerfully chirped as he collected all the bloody materials and ensured Dick’s hands were scrubbed clean. Hell, he was even given a new pair of clothes and the old ones burned just to be sure.
If he would’ve been able to get a sample back to the Cave, he might’ve been able to go home by now. They would’ve learned their resident crime lord’s identity and potentially figured out what drove him, where he might have trained, and so on. But no! Matt or Murphy or whatever the hell his name was (it was Mark. Dick knew that he just didn’t like him) had to go and ruin it!
Not only that, Hood had somehow noticed that he was using rubber bullets during the raid against Black Mask. He was so damned lucky that he simply told Veronica. Apparently, someone had overlooked checking his ‘violence level’ when he’d been recruited. Most people were simply asked where they stood on various violence related things, given a score, and assigned to duties generally within that area.
For example, if you weren’t comfortable with a gun, you were given some other sort of weapon. If you were fine with guns but unwilling to take a life, you were provided with rubber bullets…so Dick didn’t even have to try and sneak around in the first place goddamnit!
After going through the list and ticking no on most things (no, he most certainly isn’t good with torture), Veronica processed the paperwork and told him where he could find his newly approved rubber bullets. He was also assigned relatively intense training because anyone provided non-lethal weaponry had to know who had lethal weapons in case such force was necessary and how to make sure their opponent is actually down for good even if they aren’t dead. There were also protocols on certain opponents that are to be dispatched no matter what and who to contact in case they run into one of these individuals. Overall, it was very thorough and Dick was very tired of classes by the end of it.
After this class, Dick actually started noticing the different violence class levels throughout the gang. Some guys were open to anything, but most of them were older, more jaded, and were only accepted into the gang because they still had some sort of moral code. Veronica kept a closer eye on some of them more than others, but none of them were bloodthirsty sadists and incapable of following orders. There were also those known as Class 0 members, gangsters who wanted to be involved with violence as little as humanly possible. They largely did manual jobs and transported items when the stakes were as low as possible. They were practically normal warehouse workers if you ignored the fact they were employed by a freaking gang.
Dick couldn’t help but be impressed by this system. It kept those who knew nothing and wanted to know nothing about how horrible and bloody the world could be out of harm’s way and carefully trained those who were willing to get their hands dirty within their limits. He couldn’t help but begrudgingly respect Hood for the lengths he’s gone for his underlings.
However, he still feared Hood’s eyes on him. No one mentioned anything and nothing changed since that day, but he couldn’t help but fear some sort of retribution.
But his criminal life continued as normal. He worked alongside his group and followed Henry’s advice to the letter since he still hoped to advance to Hood’s inner circle. Generally, he was assigned to work more low to mid-stakes missions due to him being unwilling to kill, but he felt like he was doing exemplary work in his area. Besides, Warehouse 13 had apparently only ever had three high stakes missions in its entire existence, so Dick didn’t feel too bad about it. He did wish he was on the assist teams to other warehouses, but he never knew about those until after the fact anyway.
Every now and then, he’d pass some information off to the Bats, but so far none of it has had a worthwhile payout. They secured a transport truck of drugs and got an approximate location for a storage location called The Crypt for some reason, but that’s been about it so far. Bruce and Tim were getting frustrated by Dick’s prolonged op despite him getting to come home plenty often, but Dick was determined to see this through.
The way Red Hood acted on the field and within his game indicated an incredible intellect and emotional intelligence. It’s critical that he gets close to him from within his own organization. Dick feels like it’s the only way to truly understand the man and therefore discover the best way to take him down.
Besides, he might have a bit of an ulterior motive. He’s starting to wonder if Hood couldn’t be persuaded to the Bats’ side. He already has solid morals, they just differ a little in…certain areas. While he’s not totally confident in his ability to bring Hood to their side because he apparently hates their guts, he feels like it’s worth a shot.
…he has not informed Bruce of this part of the plan for obvious reasons.
Dick was just unloading the last box and ready to take a break when Jimmy rushes over and drags him away. “Where are we going? Did something happen?” Dick spluttered as he allowed himself to be pulled along.
“Henry says he’s got something big to tell our group and to round up ASAP cause he’s got to go soon!” the younger man said as he urged Dick to hurry it up. Henry was one of the main leaders of Warehouse 13 and had bonded with (and adopted some) various members of the gang and invited them for occasional game nights or bonding activities. The group ended up becoming such a tight knit unit that some jokingly call them a family. Dick, or more accurately Johnny, had been lucky enough to be amongst those adopted by the barely fifty year old. Jimmy was another and was always excited for those events, but this sounded far more serious.
When Jimmy and Johnny got to where everyone else was gathered, it was clear that they were the last to arrive. Dick had been worried that something bad was going down, but he didn’t think that was quite the case because Henry looked both excited and nervous about something.
“Glad you boys could make it,” Derrick called in a joking tone as everyone settled down to hear what Henry had to say. As for the man of the hour, he surveyed the group of nearly twenty people with a small smile on his face before he started.
Clearing his throat, Henry began speaking in his warm southern accent that he’d picked up from his parents so many years ago., “Sorry for calling y’all over so abruptly, but I won’t be able to go to the bar tonight.” Cries of shock and disappointment rose almost instantly at his words, but Henry quickly quieted them down with a look. “The reason is because I’ve been summoned to Headquarters…”
A shocked silence overcame them before everyone started talking at once. Questions were hurled faster than an asteroid and excited chatter buzzed throughout the gaggle of gangsters, and Henry once again had to quiet everyone down so he could answer at least a few of the inquiries.
“I don’t know why I’ve been summoned, and no, I’ve never been before. I don’t know when I’m leaving, I was simply told to stand by. Evidently bringing newcomers to Headquarters is a complicated process to ensure no one unsavory is tracking the route. No, I don’t know if I’m meeting Hood. Now, no more questions. Finish up anything urgent and go home. I’ll fill you in on the details tomorrow!”
Everyone dispersed, many with whispered congratulations as they left because it was an honor to be invited to Headquarters no matter what the reason. If Henry was in trouble, someone would have come here, so it certainly wasn’t that.
However, Dick had a bad feeling swirling in his gut. He couldn’t help but wonder if Hood had waited to punish Dick for his insolence and this would be part of it. Because of that, he ditched out on going to the bar with excuses of needing to do something or other for his little brother and quickly changed into costume.
He commed the Bats (who were in the middle of a stakeout of their own) to let them know what he was doing, and waited on a nearby rooftop to see who would come for Henry and where they’d go. A little bit of excitement buzzed in his brain at the opportunity to figure out where Hood’s mysterious base of operations was hiding, but he was still worried for Henry. Hood wouldn’t punish, much less hurt, someone so loyal and outstanding right?
A dark, unassuming car rolled up outside of the warehouse, and someone stepped out of the back of the car to fetch Henry. The older man followed the person out of the warehouse a moment later and got into the vehicle. He looked nervous but not afraid which was a good sign so far.
The car pulled away, and Dick began to track it through the streets of Gotham. The car was going the speed limit if not a bit under in order to not draw attention to them, so it wasn’t too hard to keep up with them via grappling and rooftops.
However, he was so focused on the car that he completely missed the dark shape quickly gaining on him until he was tackled to the ground. Rolling back up onto his feet on instinct, he came face to face with none other than the Red Hood.
“Hood,” he snarled, only to immediately have to block a punch aimed directly for his face.
After throwing several more punches and attempting a sweep, Hood says, “What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you! Now what do you think you’re doing in my turf?”
“Just thought I’d go for a little sightseeing! You know how it is.” Dick said brightly as he jumped over technically his boss’ legs and gained some distance.
Hood was promptly back on his feet and stalking towards Dick menacingly, his tone turning darker. “You know the rules. Any little birds wander onto my turf, I clip their wings. This is your one chance to leave Dickhead, I’m busy tonight.”
Dick momentarily froze at his name even being partially said, and it made him feel that much more wary of the man. Hood knew too much, but certainly he didn’t know his identity. Right? Please let him be right.
“What’s so special about tonight?” Dick said in a teasing tone, not expecting to get any real information.
Instead, he watched as Hood’s entire form tightened in anger before he burst out, “Do you seriously not know what’s going on? After everything that happened to Robin, you don’t care enough to keep your ear to the ground?”
“Hood, what’s going on?” Dick asked seriously, hair suddenly standing up. If Hood was acting like this, it was bad. His reaction spelled something disastrous.
Snarling, Hood threw himself forward, catching Dick off guard and hurling him to the ground. Hood was on top of him in an instant, forcing the breath from his lungs, and snarled in his face, “Figure it out.” With that, the weight on top of Dick disappeared, and when Dick got his bearings back, Hood was gone.
After a moment of trying to figure out where Red Hood or the car went, Dick called it a loss and instead pivoted his focus.
“B, we may have a problem…”