Wolves of a Feather

Madness and Storm Clouds

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Madness and Storm Clouds

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Today was a shit day, Jason decided.

Red Hood stood poised on the edge of the roof top. He was glad for the augmentations to his suit and helmet because it was absolutely pissing down rain. The snow had long stopped falling but the weather hadn't really improved much. As though to compensate for the warming in the weather, Gotham had unleashed a deluge of water starting in the early morning and continuing on throughout the day.

What was worse, much of the snow was deep and rotting, piling up in the drains and clogging the gutters. Bins and sewers alike overflowed, causing low areas of the city to fill with dark, stinking, gelatinous water. The rooftops were dangerously slick, and the rain fell so hard, it reduced visibility to almost nothing. Gotham's police had been kept busy all day with various traffic accidents all over the city and smugglers were using the distraction as an opportunity to unload their wares at the docks.

That was where Red Hood came in.

He'd been tailing this particular crew for several weeks now. He'd made himself a real problem for them. Eight of their team were now behind bars (one with several broken ribs). Two more were dead... not entirely Jason's fault as they died from friendly fire. Three of their trucks had been seized and two more had been blown up. That was Jason's fault.

Yes, whilst Red Hood had never been popular amongst Gotham's smugglers, he was now target number one, even more so than Bats himself. Jason couldn't help but feel a little proud. He had heard chatter that several crews had pooled their money and resources to "make the problem go away."

What that meant exactly, he had no idea.

He had amused himself briefly with the idea that they might have tried to hire a bounty hunter or mercenary. The idea of Deathstroke the Terminator receiving the contract sent a thrill of adrenaline through him. He could imagine what it would be like for the alpha to chase him through the dark backstreets. To hunt him, to catch him.... To take him apart piece by piece.

Jason shivered and gave himself a little shake.

He didn't really take their threat of attack seriously. He'd dealt with mercenaries before and Deathstroke wasn't available for these idiots to hire. What was slightly more concerning was the breakout at Arkham. Nightwing and the Robins had gone in to clean up the mess, but the greater issue was that no one had yet determined how the breakout happened and exactly how many inmates were involved.

Jason knew Dick would handle it. If there were any important details, he would pass them on to him. It was time to focus on the job at hand. Jason turned his attention back to the scene below him. The men down by the trucks seemed more nervous than usual. They scuttled about in pairs, talking in low voices, and never leaving the relative safety of the spotlights. They obviously expected Red Hood.

Several men stay around the van, guns trained on the shadows as the others worked to load up the truck. Even through the rain, Jason could see how nervous and pale they were. He wanted to take full credit, but something seemed off about the whole situation, something that sent alarm bells ringing.

In the past, he would have shrugged it off, opened fire and hit the ground running. These days, he was inclined to think with a calmer head, so he settled down to wait a little longer. He was glad he did.

One of the men fumbled one of the large containers.

"Watch it, you idiot! You want to blow us up?"

"Come on, grenades don't just explode because you drop them. This isn't fucking Hollywood," the other sneered.