Trigger 1.2

I'd taken a little over three steps in when I saw the Huntress dart sideways, out of my line of sight, and I did the same almost immediately. A burst of gunfire from within the warehouse announced a barrage of bullets whipping past us as we ducked away from the onslaught.

The first, guard, thankfully, didn't notice us as we slipped past a support beam, and then behind a metal shipping container, the dark concealing Helena and I, but he did track out our movement. I pressed my back against the cover and Helena did the same, fixing a bolt into her crossbow. For a brief second, I wondered what she'd done with the arrow she had in it earlier.

The interior of the building was darker than it was outside, without the moon and the lights from the city to compensate for the absence of the sun. I found myself squinting through the darkness, mentally counting down the seconds till my vision adapted to the lack of a sufficient light source. Still, I could make out the chrome red color of the metal container I hid behind, but just barely. I began to take slow, quiet steps to the edge, to see what else I could make out.

"Coast clear enough for me to take a shot?" she asked, whispering.

I peered past the wall. Though it was chilly, the man had on a sleeveless white shirt, the strap of his assault rifle visible across his torso as he slowly paced toward us, another assault rifle gripped in his hands. He had big, fit arms, a barrel chest, and an awkward gait- like he was trying to emulate how another person walked. Almost as if he was performing for someone.

My eyes narrowed behind my mask.

The building was still shrouded in darkness, but the movements in it were unmistakable. There were more people in there than the man with the rifle.

I raised my hand towards the Huntress, my index and middle fingers held together and pointed upward, the thumb held perpendicular to them, and the rest pointed downward. She nodded once, obviously very familiar with what the signal connoted, and readied her crossbow. I slipped a hand into the right pouch on my utility belt and fingered the birdarangs left in there.

Just enough.

I signalled for the Huntress to give me a boost, compensating for the darkness by making the movements of my hands more blatant than they usually would be, and pointed at the top edge of the container. She got the message just fine, crouching low and putting her hands together. I exhaled softly, then put a foot into her cupped hands, reaching out as I was pushed up, and pulling myself onto the top of the container. I took a second to make out my path in the darkness, and then started for the man. I heard the silent 'thwip' of an arrow being fired, and the bullets started flying again.

My movements were silent, stealthy, as I took to moving further into the warehouse, confident in my ability to remain hidden. True, the persona of Robin was somewhat flashy and attention grabbing, but it helped more than it harmed. It was made to take the focus off Batman, allowing him to do what he did best, and, above all, it was made to remind the people we went up against that, despite what it seemed, the person behind the mask was a kid. Anything darker, and I could've gotten mistaken for Batman in the commotion, and would've gotten shot at without remorse. This way, I could take advantage of that very human part of my opponents that would cause that split second of hesitation they'd take before pulling the trigger.

And, when dealing with agitated maniacs with loaded guns, a split second could make all the difference between life and death.

Of course, with all that taken into consideration, I still had a couple of suits designed purely with the intent of subterfuge, for my more 'subtle' missions. This was one of them.

I kept to the shadows within the shadows, even as I bounded from container to ground, the cushioned soles of my rubber boots softening my impact and reducing the noise that could've been produced. I rolled along with the impact, settling in a position akin to a crouch, my back against the wall.

I could, now that I was deeper into the warehouse, make out about a dozen men, all armed with the same weapons, all ready to fire at the Huntress at a moment's notice.

I readied my birdarangs.

Fully embraced by darkness at this end of the warehouse and having the Huntress draw the men's attention, I was able to move closer, which meant that I could better make out the figures of the people I attacked. Drawing a birdarang out, I slipped out of the shadows and behind the man furthest away from the rest.

Engage. Disarm. Render inert...

I glanced at the rest of the men, who looked like little more than smudges in the dark.

Repeat.

The Huntress had gotten closer, having taken out the first man in the sleeveless shirt by pinning his hand to the side of a container with an arrow. His scream of pain bounced off the walls, audible despite the torrential downpour just outside and the roar of gunfire. Bullets drummed against metal as she ran up the vertical surface of a large drum, and bounded off it, leaping back into the fray and tackling another man into the shadows.

In the pause his comrades took from shooting to ensure they didn't hit him, I attacked. I reached out and drew his shoulders back, bringing my knee up to force into his spine. His back arched visibly as he screamed out in pain, and I took that opportunity to maneuver around his figure, cutting the strap around his torso free with the birdarang and wrenching the gun away from his fingers. I moved quickly, tossing the gun to the side and throwing the batarang forward in a single motion. I didn't see whether it hit due to how dark it was, but I heard a grunt, and a sudden burst of gunfire a few feet ahead.

The Huntress got the message. A few seconds later, I caught the glint of the silverhead of an arrow speed by, and vanish into the dark again- right about where I'd thrown the birdarang. I rushed the man, jumping as soon as I was close enough and slamming my elbow into where I assumed his face would be. I got lucky, and he went down without much protest. At this point, the other men had gotten privy to what was going on. One of them turned in my direction and fired.

Unlike in the movies, AK-47s didn't actually produce sparks as they were being fired in real life. Not unless the barrel had a mixture of foulings of copper and lead and a bit of rust in it- most likely at the tip. That was the kind of situation that a gun that got fired regularly without regular maintenance ended up in, not one that was supposed to have been recently shipped in, and new.

That said, I was fairly surprised when I caught the tiniest hint of orange erupt from the position of the man firing at me.

I darted at him, grabbing the rifle and diverting the fire upward. It would, no doubt, draw more attention my way, but I wanted to end this quickly. The longer I took trying to wrestle the gun away, the more it seemed that he'd be the one with it, in the end, so I threw my head forward. My forehead crashed into his mouth, and I felt a sharp sting of pain there, but I managed to finally pull the weapon away from his grip. As he staggered backward, I leaped and pushed both feet against his chest, throwing him into Helena's range, where she quickly dispatched of him with her bolts, one in each of his shins.

I rolled into a crouch, selected another birdarang, and assessed the situation.

Five men out of a possible eleven neutralized... Could there be more of them, somewhere around? Doubtful; I'd surveyed the area at least six times at several different junctures before I was forced to engage. Even if I'd missed something, Hele- The Huntress would've caught it, and rendered it inert...

The gunfire continued, but none of the bullets got close enough to me to actually matter. I quietly took in a breath, then released it. I'd been in more dangerous situations than this, but staying calm while so close to a possible death, no matter what form it took, was something that I'd never quite gotten the hang of. It was easier to perform in front of others, to feign the courage one expected of a Robin, but right there, in the dark with no one to perform for, I found myself flinching at the sound of each bullet leaving the barrel.

Still, I remained calm, listened for footsteps, watched the movements as best as I could.

A man suddenly hunched over to a knee, his gun dropping from his hands and hanging off his shoulders, and another bumped against him. Then, I pounced. Using my running momentum, I drove my foot into the standing man's torso, forcing him back with a choked gasp for air and turned to the other man, sharply lunging forward and hitting him. The material of my glove prevented my knuckles from taking damage from the punch, but it did the man's face no similar favor. He staggered in his crouched state, arms flailing out as he fell onto his back. Hopefully, that would keep him docile enough for Huntress' tranquilizer bolt to kick in.

I followed the wheezing to the man I'd kicked. He hadn't recovered yet, which made retrieving his weapon and knocking him toward Huntress' range that much easier.

I appreciated how she stuck to the shadows, instead of joining me in the thick of things, drawing the bullets away from me with her arrows. Still, I had the nagging feeling at the back of my head that she was going to end up doing something more than unsavory before the night ended.

Seven do- Eight down. Three more to go.

The rest of the men were already starting to surrender; their gunfire was more subdued, not as frequent as it originally was. I was tempted to let Huntress handle the rest of them, while I headed off to check the rest of the warehouse for anything that could explain /why/ there was a squadron of men holed up in it, instead of the weapons trade I'd been led to believe was going to happen.

But, leaving her alone with them would have been cruel. For them.

"We've taken down more than half of your men in the span of five minutes," I said, my voice raised and artificially deepened. I wanted to sound like I was coming from a position of authority- which, in a way, I was. "If you don't surrender, right now, my partner here is going to do something very, very terrible to you, and I'm not sure I'll be able to stop her."

I held my breath for a second, two.

Four assault rifles were thrown forward. They skidded to a portion of the warehouse where the moonlight reached in.

"Good," I said. "Now, I want to see all of you."

One by one, three men stepped out into the light, all unarmed. I noticed that one was favoring his right leg as he walked.

I turned to Huntress. "Light? Please."

"Unless you missed a couple hiding in the corners, we got all of them," she said, then tossed something my way.

I stretched out a hand and caught it.

Night-vision goggles.

I let myself relax, slightly.

Groaning filled the air, I noted as I observed te aftermath. Most of the men were still conscious, but none of them classified as threats, at the moment. The Huntress stepped out of the shadows, brandishing a pair of handcuffs. She walked up to the first guy and forced him to his knees, securing his hands behind him.

"This is the part where you explain to me what's going on here," I said.

"Hm?" she said, feigning ignorance.

Annoying.

"Stop it."

"I'd been following the missing weapons for a while now, same as you," Huntress said, cuffing the third man. "I tracked the movement down to Hub City, but something came up while I was there, and it disappeared in the commotion. Out of options, I talked to Q, and-"

"Q?"

"The Question."

I raised my eyebrows. "Ah."

"He told me that he'd been investigating a new player; this guy, calls himself 'Titus. I didn't get much out of him, but it looks like this Titus guy's been building a small army. It looked like he was going to be setting up shop in Hub, and that drew Q's attention, but he's been keeping silent lately. Laying low."

"And, let me guess. Titus disappeared around the same time the weapons did?"

The Huntress made a sound of confirmation. "And I wasn't exaggerating when I said he was building an army. I've seen the footage of one of their rampages. He's got at least fifty members, all at least trained in basic hand-to-hand combat, all outfitted with some of the best combat gear I've seen in a while. Armor's almost weightless, but tougher than kevlar. The police department unloaded their cache into these guys, and got only one fatality."

I rubbed my chin, then discreetly signalled to the Huntress.

Batman. Is. There. Now.

She nodded, her head moving by only a fraction. "With an army and all those weapons suddenly missing, again, I headed back to Gotham, to see if you guys had any better luck."

My vision blurred for a second, and I blinked rapidly, then shook my head. The sting in my forehead had grown into a slow throb, and the warm liquid that inched down the cold skin there wasn't helping matters.

"You're bleeding," Huntress said, then looked away.

I gestured to the men. "Titus' guys?"

"Potential recruits, I'm assuming. The weapons aren't new, I'm sure you noticed. This was probably supposed to be an initiation meeting."

"And Titus skipped out on them," I finished.

The one in the middle scoffed. Now that he was in a bit of light, more visible than he was in the dark, I could get a better look at his features. A kid, no older than Huntress, even, dark-skinned, rough face.

"What's so funny?" Huntress asked.

I heard a screech of burning rubber just outside the warehouse. Car headlights shone through the doors.

I frowned, my hand reaching for my staff.

"When did you call the GCPD?"

I answered without taking my eyes off the lights. "I didn't."

"We were expecting The Bat," the kid said, "but I guess Titus will have to make do with you guys."

My eyes widened.

"Trap," Huntress breathed.

Before I could say anything else, the silhouette of a person appeared at the entrance to the warehouse, bigger, bulkier than the men we'd just subdued. He had something mounted on his shoulder that I couldn't quite make out, something cylindrical.

Something he was aiming at us.

The Huntress practically shoved me into the darker side of the building, right behind another container, and I caught a glimpse of her pressing her hands to the sides of her head. I turned, so that I'd land on my elbows, rather than on my back, and followed suit; covering my ears and shutting my eyes.

The blast tore through the right portion of the warehouse, and the shockwave ripped through my bones, throwing me further than where I'd intended to land. I tumbled on my side and stopped when I hit a wall, dazed and gasping for air.

If I remembered correctly, Rocket launchers were included in the number of weapons stolen.

Huntress was already pushing herself up, and she grabbed my arm harshly, pulling me along. A blistering inferno had been birthed in the wake of the explosion, slowly tarnishing the oxygen supply with its thick fumes. I couldn't make out the trio through the flames, but there was no doubt about whether they were alive or not. I forced through the pain in my muscles and pulled my staff out.

"Titus?" I asked.

"Definitely," Huntress said.